


How The Time Flies

by sweetestsorrows (katschako)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Partners, Co-Parenting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Gratuitous Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Infertility, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Marriage of Convenience, Minor Astoria Greengrass/Ginny Weasley, Minor Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, POV Hermione Granger, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katschako/pseuds/sweetestsorrows
Summary: There was one thing of which Hermione was certain. Draco Malfoy, her partner and friend, would never be interested in her romantically. Then, he proved her wrong. When they agreed to remain friends it pained her, but she knew it was for the best. In a month, she was leaving the country for a new job and there was no future for them.Of course, life never turns out as expected.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 124
Kudos: 520





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to 'Someone Like You' by Adele and the idea for the story was born.
> 
> Many thanks to [Sunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/besmirchedmaiden/pseuds/besmirchedmaiden) for beta reading and britpicking this for me! I'm so grateful for your friendship. 💖

Hermione couldn’t tear her gaze away from the two pink lines staring up at her, the third set that taunted her in what should have been an otherwise peaceful evening.

She shook her head and sighed heavily. 

_Bugger_.

She was finally settled into her modest Brooklyn apartment. American colloquialisms and customs were just starting to make an inkling of sense. The reviews that heralded the first month of her training period as the Head of the Auror Department were stellar.

After getting off work, she had decided to reward herself for the excellent progress she was making with a nice bubble bath, a tall glass of wine, and a good book. It would be an early start to the weekend. 

In the process of digging through her bathroom cabinet in search of the prerequisite bubbles, she came across a box of unopened tampons.

The unexpected finding triggered a rather anxious response, leading to her frantically trying to recall when her last period occurred. In the commotion of leaving England and moving to the United States, she’d hardly given her cycle a second thought. After calculating it and referring to her trusty planner, Hermione realised she was two months late.

That being said, the past few months had been rather stressful, so it wasn’t entirely out of the question that she might just have skipped the pesky business of bleeding for a week. It didn’t necessarily mean what she thought it might. There were many reasons why women missed their monthly.

Yet, despite her mind’s desperate attempts to rationalise the situation, logic reminded her that she never missed her monthly flow. Even when she was frantically running for her life as a teenager on a mission upon which the entire British wizarding world depended, her period came regularly. 

Thus, she paused her plans for the night. It wasn’t as if she would be able to enjoy her wine or her book before setting her mind at ease, and ran down to the pharmacy around the corner from where she lived. 

She picked up three test kits, just to be safe.

This was how Hermione Granger found herself alone in a foreign country, sitting on her toilet with three sticks lined in front of her on the floor of her bathroom. 

All of them confirmed what she feared since this mess started not even an hour before. She was, indeed, pregnant. The harsh sting of tears pricked at the corners of her eyes before she brushed them away roughly.

While the development was entirely unforeseen, there was no use in crying over it. 

Instead, Hermione steadied herself with a deep, cleansing breath and filled the tub. Even if the wine was now out of the question and her mind was far too frantic to focus on a book, she could still enjoy a good soak. 

She lay in the steaming water, the sweet scent of lavender relaxing her body. Her thoughts drifted back to the events that occurred over the past 10 years, after she and her friends defeated Voldemort, against all odds. 

Life after the end of the war brought about many changes, some that she could have and should have predicted, and others that were entirely unanticipated.

It came as a surprise to no one when Hermione returned for the proposed Eighth Year at Hogwarts to complete her education. At the same time, Harry and Ron instead joined the Auror Division. Nor were many shocked when Ron decided before their training was even over that life running a joke shop with George better suited his talents.

While some were disappointed when she and Ron agreed they were better as friends without even bothering an attempt at dating, Hermione was not among them. She wouldn’t deny that she had harboured unrequited feelings for him throughout their school years, but with distance came clarity.

In the end, they conceded that it wasn’t worth ruining their friendship just to please others.

What was rather astonishing was the unlikely friendship that blossomed when she and Draco found themselves sharing quarters as Head Girl and Boy. It wasn’t easy, nor did it happen quickly. Still, by the end of the year, they could both begrudgingly admit that they shared more similarities than either had previously noticed.

Further, they made quite an effective team.

She was the one to convince him to apply for the Auror programme after graduation. With both the recommendations of herself, Harry, and Headmistress McGonagall, Draco found himself the second-best in their Auror class. It was extraordinary to many, considering his upbringing and the side of the war he fought on. Still, no one was quicker than Hermione to defend him.

That was how they became partners, which was expected, and how he came to be friends with two members of the Golden Trio, which few saw coming.

Ron had married Susan Bones and started a family shortly after Hermione graduated. With his responsibilities as a husband, father, and co-owner of a rapidly growing business, it was hard for him to find free time.

The divide between them further deepened as Hermione and Harry shared a nearness and accessibility brought about by their positions as Aurors and as housemates offered. Hence, the strong bonds of friendships weakened, though they didn’t disintegrate entirely.

From time to time, they still came together, and Harry and Hermione served as godparents to little Jack Weasley. However, there was a vacancy left behind as Ron pursued his own goals and found fulfilment in domesticity and routine. Harry had been sceptical of Draco initially, as early impressions and years of offences were hard to ignore.

Nevertheless, Hermione was persistent in making their friendship work.

Her bond with Harry remained stronger than the one she shared with Draco, and Harry was always the first she confided in or called if she needed anything. Yet, as the two most important men in her life, she demanded that they at least tolerate each other and remain civil.

Draco apologised, Harry accepted. As the years went by, both men insisted that they were only friends for her sake, though she knew otherwise.

All in all, Draco was a surprisingly solid addition to their little group, as they all learned.

In the time since they’d joined the Auror ranks, the three of them worked tirelessly to complete the capture of any remaining dark wizards. As a pair, Hermione and Draco were at the top of the department for most cases solved, most criminals apprehended, and most explosive arguments. 

For although their friendship was a strong one, their personalities could hardly allow for them to work in such close proximity without quarrel or disagreement. In truth, their intellects were largely unmatched, aside from each other. While they were in accord on many things, neither was afraid of speaking their mind when there was a lack of consensus.

Of course, spending most of every day with someone meant that feelings were more likely than not to appear. It was almost impossible to dodge when she literally placed her life in his hands regularly.

Still, it took a while before Hermione could admit to herself that Draco was...fit. For starters, he’d gone through a growth spurt in their final year and now stood a good head taller than she. His training for the Auror programme meant that his frame, while still lithe, was also a solid wall of muscle. His fingers were long and elegant. The reading glasses he wore at the end of a long day were enough to make her heart race, as was the leather shoulder holster that completed his work ensemble.

He knew how to dress, too, in a way that highlighted all his best features… 

Beyond his painfully handsome looks, he was smart and had a killer sense of humour, even if many saw it as being too dry. There was also kindness and humility in him. Although he rarely showed that side of himself, his overall demeanour was a stark and notable improvement from how he acted when they were children.

As such, despite their past, the man he had become was someone Hermione might find herself falling for. There was just the small matter that he never showed interest towards her in that regard. She was far from the women he was photographed with. His status as an eligible bachelor and an Auror made sure he and whoever his date happened to be were always on the front page in the Daily Prophet's social section.

Those women were accomplished in their respective fields, as she was, but were also tall, stunning, and of respectable heritage. Draco had made it clear that he no longer ascribed to the hateful rhetoric that he espoused in his youth. However, Hermione knew that there were still expectations of him as the sole descendant to both the Malfoy and Black bloodlines.

Thus, she shoved any lingering feelings of more profound affection or attraction for her partner into the deep crevices of her mind and turned her attention to her work. She dated here and there, but none understood her deep attachment to the existing men in her life nor her devotion to her work. She refused to alter her relationships with Harry or Draco to please just any fleeting fancy. Further, she would be damned before she let anyone stand in the way of her goals and aspirations.

The only one who truly seemed to understand was Draco, but he wasn’t a viable option as she was reminded of again and again.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t until far too late that she realised just how wrong she’d been.

On an otherwise unremarkable Monday morning when she found a letter waiting for her, delivered before she’d arrived for the day. It was the offer she’d been hoping for. Several months prior, she’d been approached by an American recruiter who was tasked with finding a suitable replacement for the Head of the Department of Aurors for MACUSA. Since Hermione was a war heroine and boasted an excellent track record as an Auror, the woman sought her out.

What followed was a rigorous series of interviews, background screening, physical evaluations, and other various requirements, which Hermione breezed through with ease. She didn’t tell anyone of it, not even Harry. In fact, she fully anticipated being eliminated from the candidate pool early on, given her citizenship in the British magic community.

She didn't even consider that she might be selected until she reached the final stage of the process when it was just her and one other contender. That was why, when the owl appeared at her desk, it was impossible to not screech with excitement, though she quickly coughed in a poor attempt to conceal it.

A bemused smirk spread across her partner’s lips as he took in her overt display of happiness. “Something to celebrate, Granger?”

Her brain had flooded with serotonin, making it difficult to respond. Instead, she flung herself into his arms for a rare hug. Draco, to his credit, quickly overcame the shock of her affectionate gesture and chuckled as his hands settled lightly at the centre of her back.

It was a respectful hug on his part, one that might be shared between friends and colleagues, even as she strangled the air from his lungs with her arms tightly wound around his neck.

“Care to share with the class?” 

He disentangled himself from her grasp and set her down gently, but he continued gazing at her with fondness and maybe…

No, that couldn’t be right. Draco was her partner and close friend, nothing more.

“Yes, but not quite yet,” she said with a smile, “Drinks this Friday with Harry? I’ll tell you both then.”

He agreed, and they parted ways. 

She responded to the offer immediately, requesting a month to complete the transition of her current cases. Ideally, she wanted to start in two months, at least, but the current Head was set to retire on that same timeline. Hermione knew she would benefit from spending a month in the new position before that happened, to learn the department and to shadow her predecessor, thus ensuring a smooth transition.

As soon as the owl departed, Hermione drafted another letter to Harry, who was out of the country on a case, and informed him that she had news to share. She also ascertained as to whether he would, in fact, be back by Friday. By the next morning, he had confirmed his return plans and agreed to meet them.

It was difficult to contain her excitement over the news, but she knew she couldn’t tell Draco before telling Harry. Thus, all she could do was wait.

When Friday night arrived, Harry Floo called to inform her that he would be delayed and insisted she and Draco go ahead. He would meet them at their favourite bar as soon as he was free, but there really wasn’t much more that could be done.

Hours later, with still no word from Harry, she and Draco sat side by side in their usual booth. Their knees brushed lightly against one another, and his arm stretched across the back of the bench. They were each on their fourth Firewhiskey, and his face had a pretty flush from the effects of the liquor, though she knew he would vehemently deny it if she were to point it out.

They had already talked about their cases. Draco updated her on the workplace gossip mill. There was even time to discuss the new article published in the Potions journal they both subscribed to. As they sat in comfortable silence, Hermione ran her finger around the rim of her glass as she contemplated whether she should just tell him.

He deserved to know that in three weeks, she would be leaving, and it really wasn’t her fault if he found out before Harry, considering the bum had yet to show up.

“Draco—” she started, turning to face him.

At that precise moment, he swivelled towards her and spoke. “Hey, Granger—”

They now sat face-to-face, and she realised they were much closer than she anticipated. They were so close that she could see the flecks of blue in his otherwise grey eyes. He exhaled a laugh, even as his gaze dropped to her lips, and she hastily looked down at the table, breaking the trance.

“You go first,” she said, turning her attention back to her glass.

“Well…” he began again, and if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of nervousness in his tone. “I wondered if you might like to attend a lecture with me next week on developments in the campaign to gain more rights for werewolves.”

She fixed him with a chastising glare. “Don’t tease, Draco. You know how passionate I get about magical creatures.”

He merely laughed at her attempt at intimidation.

“I’m serious! It caught my attention because there will be a segment on developments in the brewing of Wolfsbane.”

“Fine, that sounds lovely. Thank you for thinking of me. Will you let me know how much to reimburse you for the tickets?”

“Don’t worry about the cost, Granger. It’s on me. Perhaps if you’re free for dinner, we can stop for a bite to eat as well.”

“We have the same schedules, you idiot, so when you’re free, logic would only dictate that I would be as well. I can pick up the check for the meal if you insist on paying for the lecture.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed him, laughing brightly.

She would miss this. She would miss Draco.

“Ah, no, that won’t do. I’m asking you out, and I was raised to be a gentleman, so I’ll be covering the meal as well,” he said with a smirk.

It was an excellent smirk, too. Draco used the charming, confident grin when he was flirting with the department secretary any time he needed a favour. Unfortunately, it was lost on Hermione, whose brain had short-circuited as she processed his statement.

Asking her out?

He didn’t mean…

Did he?

Oh, Merlin.

Too much time passed since he finished speaking, and her emotions must be written all over her face as his brows furrowed in concern.

“Granger?”

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, causing her to blink rapidly.

“When you say...asking me out…do you mean as colleagues?”

A confused look flashed across his features. 

“Is that a phrase used when referring to outings with your coworkers?”

“Well, no, I guess not.” She laughed awkwardly. “As friends, then?”

Draco released a long, audible breath.

“I’m really screwing this up, aren’t I?” he murmured, seemingly to himself. 

“Let’s try this again. Granger— No, _Hermione_ , I’d like to take you on a date. First, we’ll go to dinner, then the lecture, and then, if I’m lucky, you’ll let me kiss you goodnight on your doorstep.” 

He flashed her a small, unsure smile as his eyes glistened with hope.

That was when she started to cry.

How unfair the universe could be! The man she had secretly pined after for years _would_ finally be interested just as she was preparing to move to a different country.

“Hey, don’t cry.” He reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, monogrammed with an elegant script of D.M., and offered it to her. “I tried to plan a night to your liking, but if you want to do something else, we can… Just give me a chance. That’s all I ask.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she finally managed, in between tears. “Merlin knows how badly I’d like to say yes.”

Pressing the soft fabric to her eyes, she gulped in air and steeled herself as he patiently waited for her to continue.

“I wanted to tell you and Harry at the same time, but seeing as he’s busy and you’re owed an explanation… Draco, I was offered a job with MACUSA as the Head of the Auror Department, and I’ve accepted it. Robards already received my letter of resignation, set to go into effect in three weeks.”

Hermione looked at him expectantly, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he might be thinking or feeling, but his face betrayed nothing.

“I see. Well, congratulations are in order, then. You’ll do wonderful things for their department. The drinks for tonight are on me.”

Her heart clenched at his wooden, formal tone, a direct contrast to how he’d just been speaking to her.

“We could still go as friends? So long as you understand that if I was staying, there is nothing more that I would rather do than accept your offer.”

“You don’t have to let me down easy, Granger.” He flashed her a wry smile. “Blaise and Theo always did say you were way out of my league.”

Wait…

Had he spoken about her to his friends?

She stored that revelation away, already resigned to the fact that she would be analysing it ad nauseam at a later date.

“Listen to me, Draco Malfoy.” Taking his face between her hands so he couldn’t look away, she stared at him sternly. “I’m not letting you down easy. When have you ever known me to do that for anyone?” He tried to respond, but she silenced him with a finger across his lips. “I’m not too good for you, either. Understood? You’re a wonderful man, despite the rocky start you had, and I would be lucky to go on a date with you.”

After staring at him for a beat longer, Hermione released him from her hold, settling back into the bench with a sigh of exasperation at how cruel the fates could be. She could feel his gaze boring into her, and when she turned to face him once more, he was looking at her with an unreadable expression.

“We’ll still go to the lecture. It’s too good to pass up. If it makes it less awkward, we can even drag Potter along.”

She barked out a laugh at the image of Harry protesting his inclusion. 

“That sounds lovely.”

“I meant what I said, by the way. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Draco. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for us.”

“Me too. Shall we get out of here?”

With a nod, she shifted from her seat, following him as he stood and walked to the bar to settle their tab. They walked in silence to the apparition point. The last thing she saw before spinning away towards Grimmauld were a pair of haunted gray eyes.

Hermione shook herself from the recollection of that night, noting with a start that the water had grown cold as she took a trip down memory lane.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just checking in to let you all know that I've officially finished writing this story, so I will be able to keep the posting schedule listed in the final A/N, barring the event of any unforseen circumstances. I've also added a few more tags and relationships. They don't apply to this particular chapter, but will come up later on in the fic.

Hermione cast a spell to reheat the bath, and summoned the lavender oil to add a few more drops. She submerged herself in the water, only resurfacing when her lungs began to tingle for lack of oxygen. Leaning back against the edge with a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes as her mind wandered once more.

She remembered fearing that it might be awkward with Draco following the night at the bar, but things fell back into an easy routine.

Harry had surprisingly taken the news of her departure in stride, even joking that perhaps he might follow her lead.

The British wizarding press was especially ruthless as it followed his every move after the war. Hermione could only imagine that perhaps his quip was made without jest.

When the week of her transition arrived, she felt oddly at ease.

As she did with every aspect of her life, Hermione planned her move flawlessly. An international portkey was scheduled to depart on Saturday morning, and the rest of the arrangements revolved around that.

By Thursday, her belongings and furniture were packed and shrunk down. Any items she might need in the interim had been stored in her travel bag, a chic little thing with a must-have extension charm. She went to the office on Friday to complete all last-minute forms needed for her various cases, which would then be fully transferred to Draco and whoever his future partner might be.

A wave of nausea coursed through her at the thought of him working with someone else, but she quickly turned her attention back to the paperwork in front of her. It was unfair to entertain any sort of jealousy. She was the one leaving, after all.

The plan was to turn her badge into Robards at the end of the day, go out for a round of drinks with Harry, Draco, and a few of her other friends, and then turn in for an early night.

That was the plan.

What happened instead was chaos.

Precisely 13 minutes before the end of her shift, an emergent call arrived at the department. The Lestrange brothers, the last of the Death Eaters to elude capture or death, had been spotted, and it was all hands on deck.

That included her, Robards shouted above the chaos that erupted. As one of their best duelists and a master in defensive spells, they would need her assistance in ensuring the men were brought in with minimal casualties. If only it were as simple as her boss made it sound.

Any person who thought that a decade spent as fugitives might affect the skill with which Rabastan and Rodolphus fought wouldn't have been entirely wrong. Unfortunately, even though the men were well past their prime, they were formidable opponents.

One Auror and two Junior Aurors were seriously injured before Hermione and Draco arrived at the scene. Another Auror would have been killed if not for the combined Protego charm that they cast. The successful deflection of a unique curse surely meant to maim, torture, or kill drew the attention of the brothers to Hermione and her partner.

With the rabid, furious energy of men who had nothing to lose, Rabastan and Rodolphus found their new targets, the blood traitor and his mudblood partner.

The trouble with hunting Death Eaters was multilayered and complex.

For starters, their opponents had a wide arsenal of curses at their disposal. These curses were often ancient, dark magic, unknown to many, or original creations. This made them difficult to counter.

Furthermore, the dark wizards and witches rarely cared about the collateral damage that meant the approach to capture them was heavily dependent on the ability to evacuate the area in which they were found.

Finally, once their adversaries realised there was no hope of escape, they often became reckless and unpredictable. In their minds, it was better to die than to be captured. If they managed to take down a few Aurors or civilians with them, that was considered a bonus.

Fortunately, in this case, Hermione had intimate knowledge through Draco of the brothers' favored curses. Not only was he familiar with Black family magic, which both Rabastan and Rodolphus used as an homage to Bellatrix, but Draco had also unfortunately been the recipient of their torture from time to time.

It also helped that they found themselves in a largely unpopulated area, a sleepy little village in the northern part of the country. The occupants had scattered the moment word spread of unwanted, dangerous visitors.

Unfortunately, it was the last fact that was causing them quite a bit of trouble. Their goal was to kill as many Aurors as possible, preferably starting with Hermione and Draco, or die trying.

Both of them had too many close calls – too many brushes with curses that would surely kill them – before Hermione finally succeeded in disarming and disabling Rabastan. When her attention was otherwise occupied, Rodolphus sent a killing curse towards her turned back. If it weren't for Draco's modified shield charm that caused a curse to rebound on the caster, she would have been dead.

The debriefing and forms requiring their signatures might have kept her at the Ministry far later than she could have afforded if it hadn't been for her boss ordering her to go home.

She and Draco walked out of the department together after Robards insisted Draco leave as well. Apparently, the logistics and administrative tasks could wait until the following morning. When they arrived in the Atrium, where they would have normally parted ways, she stopped him before he could enter one of the many fireplaces.

"How about a drink? I don't think I can sleep just yet."

"It's four in the morning, Granger. I'm not sure there are any bars or pubs open that a classy witch such as yourself might patron."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, slapping playfully at his arm. "Your place, then?" He always kept the best liquor, anyway.

Draco offered his arm with a small grin before grabbing a handful of powder and calling out his address.

Maybe it was the lingering rush of adrenaline at having faced death and defeated it, at least for that day. Or, it might have been the surge of emotions she had successfully kept at bay for years.

Whatever the cause, Hermione found herself a woman possessed the minute they stepped into his study. Using the element of surprise to her advantage, she spun him against the wall and pressed her body to his.

When her lips crashed against his neck, and he released a tortured groan, it felt as though she were alive for the first time. In truth, she would have liked to start at his mouth before progressing to other sensitive areas. Still, the height difference made it rather difficult to reach her desired target.

She wasn't left wanting long, however, as he descended on her like a man indulging in his first drink of water after days in a desert. His lips pressed to hers insistently, his tongue soon swiping along the seam of her mouth as he sought entrance. She sighed his name in supplication and need, and when his tongue brushed against hers, it sent a jolt of heat straight to her core.

As her mouth moulded to his and she pulled his lower lip between her own, he tightened his embrace, moving his hands from her hips to her back as he closed any remaining distance between them.

Hermione felt the evidence of his arousal against her stomach, and she whimpered at the thought of having him inside her, stretching and filling her fully. Her fingers trailed from his chest to his shoulders, one hand winding itself in the short hairs at the nape of his neck while she used the other for leverage in hoisting herself onto him.

He caught on quickly, his hands sliding just barely against the globes of her arse before he gripped her thighs and held her tightly to him. Spinning, so her back was now against the wall, his mouth continued its exploration as he kissed a path along her jaw and down the column of her neck.

A cry escaped her when he discovered a sensitive spot behind her ear, her knickers becoming damp with arousal. She shifted against him, seeking some sort of release for the pressure that was building between her legs. At the moment he nipped her earlobe, she found purchase against his hardened length.

"Fuck, Hermione," he murmured, his hot breath tickling the wet trail his lips and tongue left in their wake. 

The sound of his gravelly, deep voice uttering her name elicited another wanton cry as she continued rocking her hips against him. The friction of her trousers was enough to briefly satiate her need, but she knew she soon would need more.

She pulled his face back to hers, pouring out years of need and desire into her kiss. One hand held her steadily as he pushed her more firmly against the wall. His other hand traced slowly along her ribs. He palmed her breast greedily, running his fingers against the hardened nipple that peaked through her bralette.

"Draco, please, stop teasing." She whined against his lips, as his hand continued its journey before resting lightly against her neck.

Holding the base of her jaw, he broke the kiss to look at her. His pupils were so dilated she could hardly see the grey of his irises. She was sure her own eyes mirrored the desire so evident in his.

She bit her lower lip, contemplating his mouth intently. His lips were reddened from her efforts, swollen and wet and so enticing.

"What is it that you want, love? I'm not trying to be difficult, but... I need to hear you say it."

She answered, without a moment's hesitation. "You."

A pained look flitted across his features, and she might have missed it if she weren't attentively tracking his every movement. He brought his mouth closer to hers once more but stopped just shy of kissing her.

"We shouldn't. You're leaving in a few hours."

"Please," she whimpered. "Please, Draco."

Resting his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes.

"Gods be damned, how could I ever resist you when you're giving me that look and saying my name?"

His lips met hers once more, but the kiss this time was soft and slow as if he were trying to memorise the way her mouth felt and tasted. Hermione was the one to shift from him after several more minutes passed. 

She cupped his cheek, pressing one final kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Take me to bed. I know I'm leaving, and there's no future for us, but I want this. I want you. I feel like I might die if you don't fuck me, and even as I say it, I can hear how ridiculous it sounds—"

Draco cut her off as his mouth found hers, his lips, teeth, and tongue continuing to explore her as he spun and began walking blindly towards the door.

The minute they entered his room, he set her down gently. It was the furthest they'd been from one another since arriving, and Hermione found she hated it. Quickly rectifying the issue, she stepped towards him once more and began to undress him.

First off were his Auror robes, thrown across the back of the chair sitting in the corner of the room. Then the holster, the one she loved so much. The task of unbuttoning his shirt was one that might have been easier through the use of magic, but Hermione wanted to take her time. She kissed the patches of skin that were revealed as more of the silky, expensive fabric fell away, her tongue tracing the beautiful, silvery scars that were scattered across his chest.

Sinking to her knees, she undid his belt buckle and then his trousers, tugging at them insistently as he pulled his arms from the sleeves of his shirt and allowed it to fall to the ground. His boxers she removed with her teeth, and he finally stood naked before her, as beautiful and perfect as a marble statue.

She wanted nothing more than to take his member into her mouth, to lave along the shaft with her tongue and see how far back into her throat she could fit him. She would have, too, if he hadn't lifted her to her feet to return the favor of disrobing her.

Draco was not nearly as patient as she had been, and several of her buttons were mishaps as he tore off her shirt before his mouth descended on her breast. He pulled her bralette down to gain better access to her nipple as he guided her back towards the bed. When her knees hit the edge of the mattress and sent her tumbling backward, he took the opportunity to divest her of her pants.

Before she realised what was happening, his lips were pressed to her cunt, her knickers coming off with the loud rip of fabric. His tongue was lapping at her, collecting the slick arousal that leaked from her and finding her clitoris.

Her hand wound in his hair as she cried out his name.

Her hips undulated against his mouth as she sought to dispel the pressure that had steadily risen within her from the moment they first kissed.

Her back arched up and off the bed as two long fingers pushed into her, curling expertly to find the sensitive spot that drove her wild.

Her moans filled the room as she squirmed, every thrust and twist of his fingers and flick of his tongue, pushing her closer to ecstasy.

"Hermione, look at me." 

His husky tone broke her from her trance, and when she opened her eyes to do as he commanded, she found him intently contemplating her.

"Watch me while I make you come."

She couldn't understand how she managed to not look at him before then, but now she found she couldn't look away. His tongue resumed its ministrations as a third finger joined the other two, pumping in and out of her and preparing her for his cock.

The tension finally broke, wave after wave of bliss coursing through her. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes, but her gaze remained locked on him. A throaty groan escaped him as he drank her, his fingers slowing before sliding from her completely.

Hermione lay in a state of complete satiation as he crawled beside her, his fingers mapping out constellations across her skin.

"That was amazing." She turned towards him and pressed her body against his. "You're amazing."

He laughed at her lack of vocabulary and brushed his lips softly against hers. She deepened the kiss, relishing how he tasted of her and committing to memory the exact way he shivered when her hand brushed against his erection.

What started as lazy strokes turned to firm pumps of his cock as her thumb brushed against the tip and collected the moisture there to aid her efforts. Soon he was thrusting into her grasp, and he whined, actually _whined_ , when she released him.

He wasn't wanting for long, though.

Hermione pushed him onto his back and straddled him, removing her bra and basking in the way his gaze dropped appreciatively to her chest.

"You're beautiful." 

The reverent look in his eyes caused a blush to creep across her face. 

His hands caressed her scars and held her hips as she shifted above him.

His eyes were locked on the place where they would soon be joined, his gaze never straying as she gripped the base of his cock and slowly sunk down onto him.

His mouth fell open as he cursed hoarsely when he was fully sheathed within her.

Hermione rested her hands on his chest, her hips undulating experimentally as she adjusted to his girth. When she leaned forward to press a kiss to his chin, her hair fell around them in a curtain and shut out the rest of the world.

It was just the two of them.

There were no family obligations and expectations.

There was no impending move to another continent.

The only things that existed were her body and his, moving together as she slid up and down his length. She pressed hot kisses to his neck when he stuttered her name. When his hands gripped her hips and aided her movements, she rewarded him with a swipe of her tongue along his lower lip.

"Merlin, you feel incredible," he groaned.

Her cunt clenched around him at the praise.

His brow arched in question as a painfully familiar smirk spread across his features. "I should have known a little swot like you would have a praise kink." 

Rather dignify his teasing with a response, she sat up and began to bounce up and down. The obscene slapping of wet flesh against wet flesh filled the room, and she cried out when he thrust up to meet her.

"You're so damn tight and wet and absolutely perfect." Draco punctuated every word with a thrust of his hips. "You ride my cock so well, witch."

She faltered at his continued praise, and the movements became erratic as she approached her peak once more. She felt her core flutter and tense, a sure signal of her impending release.

"Draco—" 

She was so close to falling over the precipice into the inky blackness of pure ecstasy, but she needed more. He growled, pulling her to his chest and rolling them over so that he hovered above her. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and he began to plunge his cock into her at a punishing pace.

"Do you know how good you look like this?"

His hand tangled in her hair as he drew her face to his and kissed her.

"I've dreamt of this moment for ages... You beneath me, above me, on your knees for me... My mind was hardly picky on the position, so long as it was you in it, willing and ready to take me."

He was babbling now, but Hermione wasn’t going to stop him. She knew _just_ what he spoke of. After all, she had the same fantasies about him.

His hand snaked its way between them. His thumb found her clitoris and rubbed tight circles to match the tempo of his hips. When she shattered around him, his thrusts never slowed. It wasn't until her orgasm had passed that he came with a groan, his lips finding hers again as he emptied himself inside her.

That was just it, wasn't it?

In the heat of the moment, with a flood of epinephrine clouding their judgment, neither she nor Draco had cast a contraceptive charm.

For two such intelligent people, they’d made the most basic of errors. 

As a result, fear, anxiety, and uncertainty of the future spiraled in a frightening maelstrom of distress that threatened to drown her. Unfortunately, due to the sinful memories of Draco worshipping her body, she was also aroused. She stood from the tub, dripping onto the tiles of the little bathroom.

The warm water and soothing scent of lavender had failed their purpose. With her skin wrinkled and her mind still running on overdrive, there was little use in continuing to soak.

A trip back home seemed to be in order.

Although every fiber of her being screamed at her to run and hide, she knew she had to face him. It was something she could figure out tomorrow. 

Tonight, she would sleep.

Her dreams were filled with strong hands gripping her skin, grey eyes boring into her, and the sound of a hoarse, deep voice calling her name. She woke with a jolt, looking around her room for him before coming to the realisation that she was in her room.

In America.

Thousands of miles away from her friends and from _him_.

The following Monday she scheduled a trip for the weekend. It was far too soon to take time off from work to travel during the week. She didn't bother telling Draco she was coming.

They'd hardly spoken since she moved. 

He fell asleep shortly after they untangled from each other's embrace early in the hours of _that_ morning, and she slipped away without a word. Hermione told herself she did so because she didn't want to disrupt him, and her portkey was leaving shortly, but really, she was a coward.

So, she couldn't really blame him for the lack of contact.

Still, she knew his schedule like the back of her hand, and every Saturday, he spent the early part of the day volunteering at St. Mungo's. That was followed by lunch at his favourite little deli in Diagon Alley.

She planned her arrival for several hours before he would leave the hospital.

Taking her time to stop in at a few bookshops, she left Flourish and Blotts with several minutes to spare and apparated to the hospital gates. Hermione smiled to herself at the sight of a pale blond head of hair, making its way through the various patients, visitors, and medical personnel that filled the courtyard. He was right on schedule, as expected.

She was so focused on Draco that she almost missed the petite brunette woman on his arm until the couple was already halfway to where Hermione stood.

Once she noticed the other woman, it was impossible to attend to anything else. A sharp pain shot through her chest at the way Draco's companion smiled and then laughed prettily at something he said. Her breathing quickened as she studied the intimate way his hand drifted to the woman's back when he guided her through a crowd of rowdy teenagers. 

She nearly threw up the muffin she ate while waiting when he flashed the woman his most winning smile. Hermione knew that smile. She'd seen it many times on the Prophet's pages, always turned toward some beautiful and talented witch. 

Astonishingly, none of those women held a candle to the one now walking beside him. She was effervescent in her beauty, with her perfectly coiffed hair, natural makeup that highlighted her bright green eyes, and immaculate wardrobe. A kind smile rested easily on her features, even as she carried herself with the grace and practice that evidenced a pureblood upbringing.

In short, she was everything Hermione was not. 

Draco looked up, eyes searching the area almost as if he could sense her. Just as she felt the weight of his gaze land on her, she turned and fled on foot, too distressed to apparate. She thought she heard her name called from a distance, but she knew it was her imagination. Her former partner would never do anything as gauche as to make a scene.

Turning into the first alleyway she came across, she collapsed to the ground as she rapidly cast various charms to hide her appearance.

In her distraught state, she didn’t notice Draco as he strode past, clearly searching for something, or someone.


	3. Chapter 3

It took the better part of an hour before her emotions settled enough for her to apparate. Even so, the second she landed on the front steps of Grimmauld, the floodgates broke open once more.

She knew her appearance must be startling when the grizzly, old house-elf looked at her with a modicum of sympathy before stiffly ushering her into the familiar home. Per Kreacher, Master Harry was otherwise indisposed, but Hermione insisted she would wait. She could have sworn she was well on her way to wearing down a path in his entry hall when the sound of footsteps echoed down the staircase.

Recognition dawned on her as a sharp, black bob came into view, the woman pushing past her rather rudely in a huff. A sheepish-looking, half-dressed Harry followed shortly behind.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow in equal parts amusement and curiosity. "Was that Pansy Parkinson?" 

Harry had slept with his fair share of women and men in the time since he and Ginny amicably parted ways years before. Still, Hermione wouldn't have ever expected any sort of relations between her friend and Pansy. 

Though, many might say the same about Hermione and Draco.

"She wasn't too happy about being interrupted by Kreacher, right before the ah... _main event_."

His gaze fell on her then, and his eyes widened as he took in her frazzled state. She must have looked like an absolute fright. Her riotous curls were rebelling from the braid she twisted her hair into earlier that morning, and her eyes felt swollen and sore.

"Mione," Harry began, "why are you here? It must be urgent if even Kreacher felt it appropriate to come and get me."

With that, any semblance of calm and distraction that the Pansy conundrum had ushered was promptly stripped away. She collapsed into Harry's arms. He carried her to the sitting room, directed her towards the couch, and sat beside her. She told him everything – of Draco asking her out, of their sleeping together, of learning she was pregnant, and of seeing Draco with the woman.

When she finished with a hiccup, Harry was uncharacteristically silent. She pulled from his embrace to study his features.

What she saw only caused her stomach to sink further.

He knew something, and he wasn't telling her because he feared how it would affect her. He was a lousy liar, even if he was attempting to lie by omission. Further, she knew all his tells. 

Years of familiarity and trust meant she could read him like a book. She'd always seen Harry like a brother, but now, he was practically the only family she had left.

Although she successfully reversed the memory charm on her parents once it was safe for them to return, they viewed her actions as a fundamental violation of their rights. In turn, it caused a fissure in their relationship that never healed.

If she could live through the pain of being rejected by her parents after she fought so hard to protect, she could surely handle whatever it was he knew.

"Harry."

He turned away, stood, and began to stride back and forth across the room. A hand brushed the hair back from his forehead, further mussing his already wild mane.

"Just spit it out."

She was starting to get worried.

"The woman he was with... Her name is Astoria Greengrass. She was a few years behind us at Hogwarts."

Hermione watched him silently as he took another deep breath.

"I know you're probably thinking that he's always seen out and about with some woman or another. I think this one is different, though. They've been all over the papers since—" 

Harry stopped and faced her, his face flushed as he swallowed the rest of his sentence.

"Since when?" Hermione prompted after it became apparent he would not be offering up the rest of the information willingly.

"Well... Since around the time you left, actually. I think... It might be serious. Not between them, necessarily, but their families. Pansy was talking about a possible wedding within the next year."

Hot tears threatened to spill over, but she brushed them away. "It's serious between them, too."

"How do you know?"

"I saw how they looked at each other and how they interacted. Whether or not the match was arranged, it's clear Draco shares a connection with her."

"You should still tell him."

"How can I? It will very likely ruin his prospects with her, and for what? I wasn't planning to move back, nor can I ask him to uproot his life for me. We weren't together when this happened. It was nothing more than a one-night stand!"

"Regardless, he deserves to know."

"I don't know, Harry... I don't think it'll make any difference."

She could tell he wanted to say more, but out of respect for their friendship and in deference to her judgment, he remained silent. They were at an impasse, neither willing to concede. Though she knew that he was right at some level, it would take longer than a few hours to swallow her pride and approach Draco.

Clearly, he hadn't spared her much of a second thought in his busy life as an unofficially betrothed man. The night they shared obviously meant more to her than it had to him. As such, it wouldn't kill him to wait a little longer while she gathered her courage.

What he didn't know couldn't hurt him. 

"Can I stay the night?" she finally asked. "My portkey doesn't leave until tomorrow morning."

"Take-out from our favourite Thai place?"

Hermione flashed him a small smile. "That sounds wonderful."

They spent the evening in comfortable familiarity, effortlessly falling back into their old patterns of interacting. Hermione chose the movie they would watch over dinner, and he washed the dishes while she dried and stored them. Before they retired for the night, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Things will be alright, Hermione."

"I know. It'll be tough, but I'll make it through."

"Will you let me know if you need anything?"

"Probably not." She laughed. "You know how I am."

Harry looked at her for a moment before nodding stiffly.

"Good night. Let's get breakfast in the morning before you go."

She woke the following day earlier than she would have liked, but she figured the time zone difference was to blame. It surprised her to find that Harry was already gone, a hasty note in his scrawled handwriting informing her he would be back in time for breakfast.

After taking her time to shower and prepare for the day, she was just about to head downstairs and wait for him when the crack of apparition alerted her to his arrival.

"Hermione?" he called out, loud footsteps echoing in the hallway.

"Just about ready!" she responded. Grabbing her bag, she opened the door to her room and was met by a flustered, disheveled Harry.

The look only meant one thing – _trouble_.

With a searching look, she put her hands on his shoulders. "What's going on, Harry? Is everything alright?"

"I hope so," he muttered. "That is to say, yes."

From the sound of it, he was up to no good.

"What have you done?"

Harry had the sense to look down abashedly, his hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck in that boyish, charming way of his.

"I resigned."

"You what?!"

He flinched as her voice reached a painfully high decibel.

"I'm coming with you."

"Harry James Potter, you _cannot_ be serious."

At that, he crossed his arms and glared at her defiantly.

"I can, and I am. Nothing you say will make me change my mind."

If he wanted to be difficult, then fine. Hermione switched tactics. 

"Why would you do this, Harry? You've got a promising career here. We both know Robards intends to name you as his successor."

"What else do I have, though? I'm not in a relationship. I have no one here. It's always been a bit weird at the Weasley's ever since Ginny and I broke up. I think Molly still hopes we'll get back together. Anyway, I'm sure there are jobs for me at MACUSA—"

She cut him off. "Have you applied?"

"When would I have applied?" Harry gave her an exasperated look.

"You don't even have a job lined up, and you're planning to move to an entirely different country!"

"Hermione, unlike you, I'm not moving there for work. Of course, I'll look for a job, but I've got enough to live on for a while. Between the money from my family vault, as well as the inheritance that Sirius left me, I'll be fine. If I don't find anything, then I'll be a stay-at-home uncle."

"You're moving there for me and the baby," she said, finally uttering aloud what she suspected all along.

"Of course, I am! For being the brightest witch—"

"Don't you _dare_ finish that sentence."

He flashed her a crooked grin.

"You're my only family, Hermione. Pretty soon, it'll be three of us, but for now, all I've got is you. I thought about what you said last night, that you wouldn't ask for help—"

"I wasn't trying to guilt you into drastic action!"

"I know you weren't. You always took care of me when we were kids..."

Hermione looked at him, pointedly. "Just when we were kids?"

"And you've continued to do so since," he added. "Let me return the favour, for once. I want to do this."

"Oh, Harry." She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I don't deserve you."

"You deserve the world. I want to make it clear that I think Malfoy should know, but I'll be there for you no matter what."

Brushing a kiss to his cheek, she broke the embrace. "Thank you."

As they climbed down the steps and moved towards the front door, he informed her he would be returning with her. Kreacher would tend to the matters of his belongings and see to Grimmauld. She worried that his abrupt departure might ruin any chances of his returning to the Ministry in the future. He laughed brightly and told her that if defeating Voldemort didn't allow him a little leeway with the establishment, then it wasn't one he cared to be involved with.

In truth, he looked happier than he had in most of the time she had known him. His good mood and sunny affect only persisted when they landed back in New York. It seemed that shedding the various personas thrust upon him since an early age was enough to improve his disposition, despite being in a strange country with a weepy, pregnant woman.

Harry quickly secured an apartment in the same complex she resided in. Although Hermione had offered to let him stay with her, they both knew that her modest apartment was hardly big enough for two adults and a child. He was fortunate in finding an available unit so soon after moving, especially considering he would live in such close proximity.

Luck continued to favour her friend.

When he went into work with her to inquire after any available positions, the staff in human resources informed Harry that there was an opening in the Department of No-Maj Information. Further coaxing revealed that the Major Investigations Department would also be adding several Aurors to the team in roughly five months.

Hermione was sure that Harry had flashed whichever poor witch or wizard his most charming _Chosen One_ smile, though she couldn't fault him. If anything, she was glad that there would be a job opportunity that well-suited his interests and experience.

Electing to wait and use the time to acclimate to his new environment, Harry and Hermione spent their days exploring the city and getting ready for the baby.

It wasn't until after he started as an Auror with the Investigative Team that he brought up the topic they had thus far successfully avoided.

She was six and a half months along and soon to be entering the third trimester. Thus far, there had been no serious complications, for which she was grateful. 

They sat togethere at a park nearby the MACUSA headquarters, eating slices of pizza when he turned to her and cleared his throat.

"I know you don't want to talk about it—"

"Then don't bring it up," she said.

It was clear what he planned to talk about, and in a move that showed an utter lack of courage, Hermione stood and began to walk the paved path that wound through the park. Harry followed.

"I have to, Hermione. As your best friend and the future godfather of your unborn child—"

She raised her eyebrows then, looking at him sceptically to convey that any further discussion on the matter might change his status as godfather. He merely rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Don't be that way. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted... Due to my roles in both your lives, it's up to me to be the voice of reason. Please, Hermione. Tell Malfoy."

Stopping to watch the ducks that swam in the small pond, she wrapped her arms tightly across her chest to rest above the swell of her stomach.

"He's getting married, Harry."

The owl carrying the invitation to the Malfoy-Greengrass nuptials had arrived at Harry's apartment two weeks before. One might have been sent out to her as well. Still, having made her apartment unplottable after returning from the disastrous trip, she would never know.

"He's also going to be a father. Whether or not he wants to be involved in its life is up to him, but he still has responsibilities to both of you."

A single tear slid down her cheek. "I don't think I can face him... Not now. Plus, I'm not sure I'm up for travel."

"Then, write to him!" Harry wasn't going to let it go. "Send him an owl, and if he wants to meet and discuss it further in person, he can come here."

It was difficult to argue with that proposal, and even though she still dreaded having to do it, Hermione agreed.

A simple message was drafted, informing Draco of the pregnancy and her knowledge of his wedding. As he was likely to be starting a family with his new wife, Hermione did not expect him to be involved in their child's life. Finally, she stated that no compensation was sought, but she felt as though he deserved to know.

There were few comparable experiences to the stress that built with every day that passed without a response.

When a reply finally did arrive, directed to Ms. Hermione Granger at Harry's address, it did nothing to quell her nerves. The owl carried an official-looking envelope, and a quick glance through it confirmed her suspicions. It was written and sent from a solicitor who represented the Malfoy family.

She threw up her breakfast, shakily holding Harry's hand as she began to read, her heart pounding in her chest. There was a question about the child's paternity, which was insulting enough on its own, followed by an offer to cover termination fees for the pregnancy. This _generous_ proposal was made regardless of whether or not a Malfoy was, indeed, the father. 

Hermione was so livid she had to set the letter down and focus on her breathing. While she respected a woman's right to choose what to do with her body, there wasn't a single mention in her note of wanting to abort. For the solicitor to make that assumption, with _another_ implication of suspicion regarding the paternity, was absolutely offensive.

Harry finished reading the letter for her, quietly informing her that it ended with little more than a veiled threat. If she tried to use the child for leverage over Draco, the House of Malfoy would take steps to assume full custody of the child. Attachments were included with information on barbaric, ancient laws regarding the rights of Pureblood families.

"This doesn't really sound like the man we know," Harry said. 

They'd sat quietly for several minutes as Hermione tried to simultaneously collect her thoughts and fight back the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes.

When she didn't respond, he continued. "Actually, it kind of reeks of Lucius, don't you think?"

"I don't know, Harry. Maintaining a friendship with a Muggle-born is the trend in the post-war era. Even having sex with one might be allowed, so long as it's done discreetly. But, having a half-blood child with a Muggle-born mother seems to be in a league entirely of its own."

A tense silence settled on them once more. Andromeda and Sirius came to mind... Both were relatives of Draco, and both were disowned for relations that were deemed _beneath_ them.

"Are you going to respond?"

"No. The letter is signed by the solicitor on behalf of Draco Lucius Malfoy. A magical representation like this can only be done with the client's explicit consent."

"Hermione..."

"Let me finish. Draco either read through and approved of the contents or was careless and just provided his approval without confirming what was written."

It was left unsaid, but the man they both knew could hardly be described as inattentive.

"So, I guess he's made his decision, then," Harry said, though he didn't sound convinced.

That was that. Though Hermione had hoped for a better outcome, it wasn't as if she expected the three of them to be a family. Her head was pounding as her brain struggled to reconcile the man she'd come to know and respect with the letter. While the discrepancies were stark, Draco was nothing if not loyal to his family. Even after everything his father put him through, duty motivated many of his actions.

"I think I need to lie down."

"I'll walk you back to your apartment."

Harry offered to stay with her, but she insisted he kept his plans for the night. She would be bad company, anyway, and only intended to sleep.

Regrettably, sleep evaded her.

Hours later, she was still wide awake in the darkness of her bedroom, slowly stroking her stomach and pondering her situation.

Hermione was 29 years old, single, and pregnant, with a found family consisting of one brother as her sole support. It could be worse, she reminded herself. She could have no one. Still, this was far from what she thought life would be like when she was younger.

There was nothing to do about it, though. Hermione would make the best of the circumstances she found herself in and raise her child to be tolerant, kind, and brave. She had elected to wait on learning the sex of the baby, but she hoped for a girl.

She spent the final months of her pregnancy nesting and preparing for the complete and total upheaval of her well-constructed routine. The study turned nursery was decorated in a soft palette of colours, and furniture was bought and built. However, most of Hermione's energy was dedicated to preventing Harry from buying every cute baby outfit he found.

Her boss had been more than helpful in ensuring an acting Head would fill in while Hermione was on maternity leave. The woman that Hermione reported to was sympathetic to her situation and insisted that Hermione call her should she need anything.

When the day or rather, the night finally arrived, she and Harry were sitting in her living room eating sandwiches. After all that she had been through, it was rather anti-climatic. Her water broke, and as they had practised, Harry grabbed her overnight bag while Hermione slipped on a comfortable pair of shoes and a light sweater. They met back at her fireplace and travelled by the Floo Network to the local magical hospital.

Harry held her hand while she pushed and screamed and cursed to any deity that could hear her. The marks from her grip on his fingers were noticeable hours after the delivery, but he never complained.

When the piercing cry filled the room, Hermione collapsed back in a sigh of relief. The Healer proudly announced that she'd given birth to a daughter and Hermione flashed Harry a watery grin. He was awestruck as he watched the Healers-in-Training tend to the baby and check her vital signs. 

"I have a niece."

The moment her daughter was placed in her arms, Hermione's entire world shifted. She had grown attached to the fetus as it developed within her. Nevertheless, the experience of holding her baby was unmatched. It filled her with a sense of incomparable love and unadulterated happiness. 

Tears of joy spilt down her cheeks as Hermione studied her daughter. Although she didn't notice at the time, Harry managed to catch a photo of the moment. It was one Hermione forever cherished.

The spell would never break; she would remain captivated by her daughter until the end of time. Still, she turned to her friend, her _brother_ , and smiled.

"Harry, would you like to hold her?"

Hermione was witness to nearly all his battles, both as children and adults. She watched as the man beside her faced a dark wizard without flinching. Yet, never in her time knowing him had she ever seen the look of fear that flitted across his features.

"What if I drop her?"

"You won't."

Harry smiled shyly at her as he positioned the baby protectively in his arms.

“She’s perfect.”

That she was.


	4. Chapter 4

Cressida Dahlia Granger was the centre of her mother's universe.

She was a beautiful child, with white-blonde curls and striking grey eyes. It was impossible not to see _him_ when Hermione looked at her daughter, but she also found traits of herself. The little girl's button nose and bright smile were miniature versions of Hermione.

As Cressida grew older, traits of her personality emerged that mirrored her father. There were countless instances in which Harry was somehow outmaneuvered, such as when it came to eating ice cream instead of dinner. It was practically part of Cressida's nighttime ritual to convince her uncle to read _just one more book_ even though he'd insisted she go to sleep two books before. It was hardly Harry's fault, though. She could charm just about anyone, so her uncle was easy prey.

Regardless, she was clearly her mother's daughter. Her thirst for knowledge and never-ending curiosity reminded Hermione so much of herself. She was courageous and adventurous, enough so to constantly keep Hermione and Harry on their toes.

It was incredible how life could speed by in the blink of an eye. Before Hermione knew it, they were celebrating Cressida's fourth birthday. 

The time since her arrival in the U.S. had been full of challenges and triumphs. With Harry's assistance in caring for Cressida, Hermione had managed to flourish in her position. She felt satisfied that the department had made vast improvements under her guidance.

Auror departments from other wizarding communities shaped their programs after the standard set by the MACUSA department.

That was why it came as little surprise when Kingsley Shacklebolt made a trip to personally offer her the role as his Senior Undersecretary. He informed her that his recent reelection would be the final terms he would serve as Minister for Magic. It was his hope that she would return home, back to the British wizarding world, and train to be his successor.

Hermione talked it over with Harry before making a decision, who seemed excited at the prospect. He never formed any real attachments since moving with her. It was a source of guilt for Hermione, and she'd tried on multiple occasions to encourage him to date. Still, he always insisted that she and Cressida were the only people he needed.

Thus, before issuing a formal acceptance, she asked Kingsley whether there would be a position available for Harry in the Ministry. His response was almost too good to be true. Apparently, Robard's replacement was not doing well under the stress of leadership. Unfortunately for the man, he would not pass his probationary period, which left a vacancy of power within the department.

It was serendipitous, the way it all came together. Before she knew it, the three of them were saying goodbye to their colleagues and acquaintances and returning back to England.

They settled into Grimmauld Place with ease, and it might have felt as though they'd never left if it weren't for the tiny footfalls and happy screams that now filled the old home.

Hermione was set to start in her new position a month after their arrival, while Harry would begin a few weeks later. She worried for his return back to the Auror department. What if the current force might not accept him open arms following his abrupt departure nearly five years ago?

Those fears were laid to rest, however, when he told of Dean and Seamus inviting him to the weekly Auror meetup. It turned out to be a reunion of sorts, or so she deduced when he returned home in the early hours of the morning completely wasted.

Overall, the transition back into their lives was smoother than she expected, save for one pesky issue that remained unresolved. She could no longer pretend that Draco was little more than a sperm donor, or a distant part of her daughter's history. The fact of the matter was that Cressida was unmistakably a descendent of the House of Malfoy, which was certain to garner attention the minute Hermione took her out in public.

Hermione had successfully managed to stay relatively under the radar of the rabid press thus far. However, Kingsley would soon be hosting a small press conference to announce her hiring.

Further, it wasn't as though Hermione could keep Cressida hidden forever. In seven short years, she would receive an owl announcing her acceptance to Hogwarts. Despite the lingering resentment she felt towards Draco following the final communication via his solicitor, she knew he deserved to know of their return before it hit the news stands.

Through some covert sleuthing by Harry, Hermione learned that Draco was no longer an Auror. He now worked for the Department of Mysteries. She wondered briefly when that change occurred before turning her attention back to the task at hand.

While she would have preferred to meet with him on neutral ground, any place in the wizarding world was off-limits, lest they cause a media storm. She refused to call on him at the Manor, and she doubted he kept the apartment he lived in before, once he was married. Settling on inviting Grimmauld, she made arrangements for Harry and Cressida to spend the day at the London Zoo.

An owl then carried her short note containing her request and the time and place for their meeting. Before, when Draco was her partner and the three of them were friends, Grimmauld's wards were adjusted to allow him entrance.

It seemed they never were changed after Harry's hasty departure.

At precisely the time she asked to meet, the familiar crack of apparition sounded in the entryway, announcing his arrival. Hermione took a final deep breath, smoothing her hands on her jeans to rid them of the sweat that had accumulated.

She had opted for simple, casual clothing, her hair tied back in a low ponytail that did nothing to tame her wild curls. There was no point in getting dressed up. This conversation was a courtesy and nothing more. Even that reminder did nothing to soothe her nerves when she saw him for the first time. He was dressed in a black ensemble, his bespoke suit clinging to his frame. His hair was longer than it had been when she last saw him, but otherwise, he seemed unchanged.

He still looked just as good as she remembered.

Clearing her throat to catch his attention, she took two small steps forward.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello," he responded.

There was a guarded, stiff tone to his greeting, and she resigned herself to what she knew would be an unpleasant conversation. She shouldn't have expected a warm welcome home, considering she was about to throw a major wrench into his life. She directed him to the sitting room and offered tea, which he accepted.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the tinkling of her spoon against the side of her cup. With a final plea to the gods for strength and another calming breath, she turned to look at him. For all the time they spent together and the intimate ways they formerly knew each other, he felt like a stranger.

"So... You're probably wondering why I asked you to meet me."

He raised a brow and smirked at her as if to say, _'W_ _ell, obviously.'_

"I heard your last message loud and clear," she said, getting straight to the point. "Maybe you figured it out, but I kept the baby. Her name is Cressida. She and I are moving back. That is to say, we've already moved back, and I'll be starting a job at the Ministry soon. I wanted to let you know before the press caught wind of my return and of her."

Her gaze had fallen to her lap, zeroing in on the cup she now held to like a lifeline. When she gathered enough nerve to look at him once more, his face was twisted into a look of utter confusion. Maybe that was her fault... Her explanation had been a bit disjointed. She opened her mouth to clarify, but he spoke instead.

"My message? Granger, none of the owls I sent you were delivered."

"The correspondence you sent via the solicitor." She shook her head in exasperation and huffed.

"What? Never mind. Congratulations on having a baby, but I hardly see what that has to do with me."

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy. Playing dumb doesn't suit you."

His eyes narrowed at the remark. "I assure you, I'm not being purposefully dense. So, how about you stop being a pain in the arse and tell me what I supposedly know."

"My daughter and I... No, _our_ daughter and I have returned to England, permanently. She is very clearly a Malfoy, and people are going to talk. I'm not telling you this to force you into anything; I was trying to be polite by giving you a heads up. But, just so we're clear, if you try to take full custody of her, I will do everything in my power to destroy you."

Her brown eyes were steely in their challenge. She would not be bullied or intimidated. If she had to dismantle the whole system to keep her daughter, she would. Though, judging by the look on his face, she had little to worry about. She wasn't even sure that he heard her threat.

"Did you say our daughter?"

For the love of Morgana. Was he really going to continue this charade?

"Yes, Malfoy. Our daughter." She spoke slowly, emphasising her words.

"And...you wrote to me...about this?"

" _Yes, Malfoy_." The conversation was quickly becoming exhausting, _tedious_. Her anxiety had given way to annoyance. "Good Godric, why are you acting like this is all news to you?"

He set his cup of tea on the low table between them, his hands shaking. The glint of a plain, silver band caught her eye, and she struggled to ignore the jealousy and resentment that sparked in her chest.

"Because it is news to me."

Her irritation continued to rise.

"Seriously? I wrote you a letter before she was born. Your solicitor sent me a response _on your behalf._ Have you had a head injury recently? Should I take you to St. Mungo's?"

"I swear, Granger. I never got a letter."

She groaned in frustration. At this rate, they'd be talking in circles for hours. She summoned the letter from the Malfoy family solicitor. Though she'd been tempted to burn it, Hermione suspected it was best to keep it for her records.

Handing it to him, she sank back into the chair, watching with a petty sense of satisfaction as his complexion became impossibly paler while he scanned the missive.

"I would never agree to this." 

His voice was barely audible, and Hermione wondered whether he was even speaking to her. Regardless, she wasn't going to be fooled that easily.

"Malfoy, I know the magical procedure for solicitors. To be able to include that final bit, he would have sent it to you. Then, you would have approved it with a brief incantation to authenticate the document—"

He cut her off. "No, the firm that represents my family requires blood. The charm isn't infallible, but blood _supposedly_ is."

Hermione merely arched her brow in response. Of course, the Malfoys would agree to something so archaic. It wasn’t her problem, though. He had essentially implicated himself in what she accused him of. Reading her look, Draco dropped his head into his hands with a heavy exhale.

"I specifically said supposedly because it was clearly misused in this instance. I suspect my father had something to do with it. All he would need is a droplet of my blood to fulfill the necessary requirement." The venom in his tone caused a shiver to crawl up her spine.

Hermione paused at that as she recalled what Harry said when she first received the letter. Perhaps his misgivings had been correct all along. He was going to be so insufferable when he heard about this. Taking her silence as continued disbelief, Draco stood and moved to sit next to her.

"Please, Hermione, you have to trust me. I know how it looks, but I promise, I had nothing to do with this."

The sincerity in his tone was evident, and at the pleading, open, _vulnerable_ look in his eyes, she felt her defences start to crumble. There was a part of her that wanted to dig her heels in, to fight him on the matter further, but what good would it do? At the end of the day, he was the father of her child. It was in everyone's best interests if they got along.

"Maybe I shouldn't have believed it at the time, but...the evidence was so damning," she said with a sigh. "I'm sorry for thinking the worst of you."

"I would have done the same in your shoes. After all those years I bullied you about your blood status? I can see why you didn't question this." 

He smiled wryly as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Regardless, I suppose I owe you an apology. I knew the man that I worked alongside was different from the boy I grew up with. It was just a difficult time for me. It's not an excuse, but it was."

"Don't you dare apologise. I'll be forever indebted to you for the harm my family has caused, and apparently continues to cause. Besides, I'm used to it, Granger, and I deserve it to some extent."

Hermione shook her head vehemently. "I owe you a second apology for springing the news on you like this, but I suppose it's better to find out this way than by seeing a photo of her in the papers."

"You said her name is Cressida?"

"Yes... A homage to Shakespeare and Greek mythology."

A small smile lit his features. "Like her mother."

She hummed her agreement.

"Cressida is also a moon of Uranus." 

"I know." 

"Members of the Black family are often named after celestial bodies."

"I deduced as much," she said with a dry laugh.

"Did you—"

"Yes."

Silence settled between them for several minutes before he spoke again.

"Thank you. What did you say her middle name was?"

"I didn't," Hermione responded. "Her name is Cressida Dahlia Granger."

"That's lovely."

"She's a lovely child..." After pausing briefly to weigh the costs and benefit of an idea that randomly came to her, she continued, "Would you like to see photos of her?"

He didn't bother containing his excitement. "I would love that."

Despite the rough beginning of the conversation, his reaction had set her at ease. There was a tiny seed of hope growing within her that he might want to be involved in their daughter's life. Of course, she would encourage a relationship between Cressida and her father.

However, it just wouldn't do to allow her buried feelings for Draco to reemerge. There was no possibility of her and Draco being more than co-parents and friends. Logic made that clear. After all, he had a wife. He might even have another child. Years apart meant she no longer knew him, only who he used to be. Still, her traitorous heart pounded when his grey eyes locked on hers, and the ghost of a smile she was once so familiar with flitted across his face. 

Hermione stood and walked to the small bookshelf that rested against the far wall. She could have summoned the photo albums but needed to break the spell she found herself under at being in such close proximity to him.

Once he was settled with the first book in his lap that chronicled Cressida's first year of life, Hermione took the opportunity to observe him.

His reaction to the first photo, taken by Harry on the day she was born, was telling. A full range of emotions flashed across his sharp features, from joy at finally laying eyes on his daughter to longing, possibly at having missed such a momentous occasion. 

He studied every picture with the same sort of intensity, drinking in her tiny features and each moment that had been captured on camera.

"She has your curls," he said. 

His attention never left the book in front of him. He had reached the end, but rather than asking for the next one, Draco simply turned back to the start and began flipping through it once more.

"Yes, she does...and my volume," Hermione responded with a laugh. "They're the signature Malfoy blonde, though."

"The colour has never looked better."

"True." When he glanced up, she flashed him a cheeky smile.

"Potter was with you."

"He was. He came back with me after... That is to say, he was with me almost from the very start."

"After what?" Draco looked at her intently.

Damn, she was hoping he might have missed that slip. Clearing her throat, she busied herself with placing their cups back on the tray.

"After I came here to tell you."

He continued to watch her, waiting for her to continue.

"I found out I was pregnant about a month following my move. It obviously wasn't ideal, all things considered. But, I travelled back the following weekend, so I could let you know in person."

Hermione could see the wheels of his mind turning as he processed the information she had shared.

"You were there that day at St. Mungo's."

She coughed and cleared her throat. "I waited for you outside the hospital since I knew you'd be volunteering."

"I thought I saw you," he said, his voice soft. "I called out after you. I even went so far as to follow you."

"I didn't want to intrude on your date."

"Hermione, about that—"

"No, you don't owe me an explanation. We were partners and friends who slept together. You didn't owe me an explanation then, and you don't owe me one now. I'm happy for you, really."

"Please hear me out?"

"I'd rather not talk about. If you'd like to be a part of Cressida's life, I'm more than happy to include you. I understand you may want to introduce her to Astoria at some point, and I want you to know I'm fine with that, too. She is your family, after all."

She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't seem to stop talking. Standing up, she took the tea tray back to the kitchen. Kreacher would chastise her for not calling on him. She was sure of it. Still, she needed a breath of air and a moment to collect herself.

When she returned, Draco was sitting right where she'd left him, though he was now holding the second of the albums. He turned his head towards the door at the sound of her footsteps.

"What you said before?"

Oh, Merlin. Hermione hoped she hadn't put her foot in her mouth. She scrambled to recall all that she had said and almost didn't realise he was still speaking.

"You'd let me meet her?"

Confusion flitted across her face. "Of course, I would. Did you think I wouldn't?"

"Considering the letter, I wasn't sure."

"You didn't send it."

"Someone in close proximity to me did."

"I won't punish you for the sins of your father, Draco."

His eyes studied her face with something akin to gratitude and relief.

"We are certain it was your father, right?"

"Mother would never do something so untoward. I know you know she supported my father, but she's different now. Even if she wasn't, she wouldn't have allowed the inclusion of the initial...suggestion."

Hermione was sceptical but willing to give Narcissa Malfoy the benefit of the doubt. Still, she couldn't stop the next words that spilt from her mouth. "Even if the baby was a half-blood?"

Standing and setting the book aside gently, Draco crossed the room to her. He stopped just shy of what would have been considered inappropriately close, though for all the world, he looked like he wanted to pull her into his arms.

"She won't care about that, I promise you. Mother will love any grandchild I give her. In fact, she's been relentless on the topic for so long, I imagine learning of Cressida will significantly boost her opinion of me."

The idea Narcissa could ever think that her son was anything less than perfect was rather humorous, but Hermione appreciated the sentiment.

"I don't care about it either," Draco said. "Regardless of blood status, Cressida is my daughter."

Ignoring the fluttering in her chest at his proclamation, Hermione looked at the clock on the mantle. They'd spent the better part of the afternoon talking, and Harry and Cressida would be home within the hour. Hermione wondered how Draco might react when asked to put actions behind his words.

"Is it strange that I've never met her, but I'm already sure I love her?"

His quiet admission drew Hermione back to the conversation, and she watched the confident, assertive man shrink slightly in front of her.

"No, it isn't," she said with an encouraging grin. "I knew I loved her before she was even born."

He nodded slightly, returning her smile.

"I've taken up more of your time that is polite. Would you mind if I took the books with me? I can bring them back in a few days."

"Well, we do still have a few matters to discuss. Namely, I understand that you'll tell your wife and mother about Cressida. However, I would like to keep the information private until we figure out the arrangements."

"Thank you for being accommodating, I'll inform them of your request. I'm sure it won't be an issue."

She nodded in appreciation. "The other thing, which I'm sorry to spring it on you, is that Cressida will be home shortly. If you're serious about meeting her."

The way his face lit up like a child on Christmas morning was the only answer she needed.

"Wonderful. I do just have a favour to ask," she said.

"Name it."

"Can we wait on telling her you're her father? It's just... All of this is happening so quickly, and in the event, you change your mind, or your wife or mother doesn't react positively... I don't want her to get confused, is all."

His features fell, ever so slightly, before he schooled them into a practised mask of indifference. "Of course, Granger. That seems perfectly reasonable. It's your job to protect her."

"Exactly," she said. She was grateful that he understood.

"I won't change my mind, though. If anyone has problems with my involvement in my daughter's life, they can take it up with me."

Hermione admired his commitment, even if she still maintained reservations. "I expect you and Cressida will hit it off splendidly. If only for the fact that both of your favourite pastimes are torturing Harry."

An impish smirk spread across his face. "She must be my daughter."

They passed the time waiting for Cressida with Draco looking at more photos and Hermione regaling him with the stories behind the shots.

When Harry and Cressida returned, the look in Draco's eyes at seeing their daughter told Hermione all she needed to know. Hermione encouraged Cressida to introduce herself after telling the child that the man before her was one of Mummy's friends. Cressida stretched out her hand to shake his, and with further prompting, she informed Draco that her name was Cressida Granger. Draco was so bewitched by the tiny girl he stuttered and fumbled through his own introductions.

When Harry flashed Hermione a questioning look, she smiled and shook her head. She would explain everything later, but for now, she simply wanted to enjoy the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry was at the Burrow. 

After two weeks of successfully dodging Molly's invitations to a family dinner, he had been unable to avoid her any longer. He begged Hermione before he left to come and rescue him if he wasn't back in a few hours.

She merely chuckled at his dramatic plea and sent him on his way, finishing the spaghetti and pulling the bread from the oven as she prepared for Draco's arrival. On the night he met Cressida, he'd asked before leaving when he could visit again. That was how she ended up sitting across the dinner table from him a mere three days later.

Cressida was babbling about the bookstore they visited earlier, and Draco watched her intently, enraptured by her every word. When they were finished eating, Cressida helped Draco clear the table. Meanwhile, Hermione pulled the strawberry compote from the fridge for the shortcake she and Cressida baked.

It felt oddly domestic until an ear-piercing shriek filled the house.

_ "Harry James Potter!" _

Hermione stiffened at the sound. Cressida looked at her father, whose attention was directed towards the source of the commotion. 

Pansy marched into the dining room, the clicking of heels against wood flooring heralding her arrival as she surveyed the scene.

"Granger." A curt nod followed the acknowledgment.

Draco cleared his throat. "Pans?" 

Her eyes flickered to Cressida, who now hid partially behind her father's leg. "Hello, Draco and...Draco's mini-me."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably as the woman that bullied her throughout her time at Hogwarts fixed a hawk-like stare towards her daughter. "Were you looking for Harry?"

The calculating look now focused on Hermione.

"Yes, is he home?"

"He's out, but he should be back soon."

"Wonderful, I'll wait, then."

Pansy left no room for argument as she pulled out a chair and sat primly.

"Uh, Pans, why don't you seem surprised to see her?" Draco gestured towards Cressida. 

He was holding her in his arms now, and she clung tightly to his neck. She still only knew him as Mr. Draco, her mummy's friend, but she was already quite taken with him. Hermione had hoped that once Harry returned, he might settle Cressida in for the night so that she and Draco could further discuss how they would approach co-parenting. Now, it seemed that would be unlikely.

"Who? Your daughter?"

"You know she's mine?"

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Pansy leaned back in her seat.

"Of course, I did. Only two men could produce a child with hair and eyes of that colour, and really, only one  _ viable _ man of the two... As soon as I saw photographs of her, I knew."

Hermione's brows furrowed in consternation. "Wait, how did you see photographs?"

"I had Harry followed."  Pansy smirked at her lazily, her arms crossing against her chest as if the admission was perfectly ordinary.

"You're an absolute nightmare," Draco said. 

He sat Cressida down in her chair, pulled out Hermione's for her, and finally settled into his own seat. Hermione began plating the shortcake before turning her attention back to Pansy.

"Why would you have Harry followed?"

As obstinate as always, Pansy huffed and threw her hands up in exasperation. "Do you really have to ask?"

"Obviously, I do, Parkinson, or else I wouldn't be asking."

Placing the first serving in front of Cressida, she passed another plate to Draco. She offered one to Pansy, who shook her head in refusal.

"None for me. Thank you, though."

Draco had already shoved two forkfuls into his mouth. Cressida, with a sweet tooth to match his, was close behind. That left Hermione and Pansy to sort things out.

"You're welcome. So, are you going to tell me, or should I have Kreacher escort you outside? You can wait for Harry just as well out there as you can in here."

Pansy grinned toothily at her, seemingly impressed by the ultimatum. "My, my, Granger. Motherhood has made you ruthless."

"I've always been vicious, but I also excel at stealth and subtlety." Hermione schooled her face into an impassive stare. "So, get on with it, already. Stop stalling for time."

Draco choked back laughter, pausing to wipe a bit of heavy whipping cream from Cressida's cheek. The girl smiled sweetly at him, and Hermione could almost see his heart melting. Pansy was also regarding the exchange, though she quickly turned her attention back toward the conversation when Hermione cleared her throat.

"Surely, you remember the day you saw me here."

Hermione nodded. She would never forget that day.

"Afterwards, I put the pieces of the puzzle together. You were pregnant at the time, right?"

Another nod from Hermione.

"I would venture you tried to tell Draco, something went awry, and so you ran to your best friend, instead."

A light blush coloured Hermione's cheeks at the painful accuracy with which Pansy had described the circumstances. She noticed Draco looking more intently at his dessert, which was now almost nearly gone.

"Harry, after learning of your situation, decided to do the heroic thing and move with you. I doubt you asked him, but that boy was always a fool when it came to the people he loves."

Hermione opened her mouth to defend her friend, but a scathing glare from Pansy told her that the other woman wasn't finished.

"I don't blame  _ you _ for it. But, after Harry kicked me out and then disappeared, I was far less rational. I hired a private investigator to track him down."

Draco's head turned sharply towards Pansy at that declaration, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were still boring into Hermione.

"At first, when the man told me that Harry was with some pregnant woman, I thought the baby must be his. Imagine my shock when the woman turned out to be everyone's favourite Golden Girl."

Sweet Morgana, that moniker was annoying. Hermione's gaze turned icy as she waited for Pansy to continue.

"Then, when he told me the baby was born but looked nothing like Harry, I insisted on evidence. It cost me far too many galleons, but the moment I saw her, it was clear who her father was—"

"Why didn't you say anything?" Draco interrupted her, his lips set in a thin line.

Pansy shrugged. "It wasn't my business. Besides, you've been rather busy in the last few years, haven't you? What with being a husband and attempting to fulfill your duty to your family by producing an heir."

At that blunt statement, Hermione choked on a strawberry and began to cough violently. Pansy only gave her cursory glance of dismissal before turning back to Draco.

"Astoria told Daphne about your efforts, and she told me—"

"You've all talked about it?" Draco's pitch raised ever so slightly, and his cheeks reddened.

"Stop interrupting," Pansy said, the reprimand clear, "and stop clutching your pearls. What the two of you are doing is perfectly normal. As I was saying, I figured that if you were so intent on those efforts, it was unlikely you had plans to claim..."

Rather than finishing her sentence, she merely waved a hand towards Cressida, who was still busily devouring her dessert, oblivious to the conversation the adults were having. Nevertheless, Hermione was thankful that the years had taught Pansy a modicum of tact.

Draco sunk back into his seat. "I didn't know about her."

"Lucius?" Pansy raised a brow.

A terse nod from Draco was followed by some unspoken interaction between the two of them, one Hermione couldn't hope to understand. With that, the conversation was over just as abruptly as it had started. She had no doubt the Draco and Pansy would continue it later, in the privacy of one of their sprawling ancestral homes.

Throughout the time Hermione and Draco had worked together, he had maintained a close friendship with Pansy. Still, Hermione knew better than to be jealous. There was as much romantic love between Draco and Pansy as there was between Hermione and Harry.

In fact, she was glad that Draco had someone else he could rely on, someone who intimately understood the pressures he was under.

Fortunately, Hermione was saved from any further uncomfortable conversations at the sound of Harry arriving. Though she was a bit sorry that he was walking into a veritable hornet's nest, it was a problem of his own making. The least he could have done was send Pansy an owl once he was settled in New York. 

Yet, the fear in his eyes when he realised they had unexpected company was almost enough to make Hermione want to jump to his aid.

Instead, she bit her tongue and gave him a sympathetic look before turning towards Cressida, who had managed to make a mess of her hands.

"Come on, little one. Say goodbye to your...to Mr. Draco, and then we need to get you cleaned up."

"Mr. Draco stay for story?" 

Hermione felt her heart squeeze at her daughter's hopeful look.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. Maybe another time, okay?"

She was thankful that Cressida didn't argue further, turning instead to hug Draco's leg and staining his expensive pants in the process. His expression made it clear that he wanted to stay. However, she needed to remain firm. It was too much, too soon.

"Sorry," Hermione said to Draco while scooping their daughter in her arms. "I'll owl you?"

He nodded in agreement, a final look of longing crossing his features, before turning and heading towards the fireplace.

The next month passed similarly, with Draco spending hours with Cressida at Grimmauld two or three times per week. He joined them for dinner on at least one work night. He also usually spent an entire weekend day chasing Cressida through the halls, joining her for tea alongside her stuffed animals, and reading book after book to her. 

When Hermione finally offered that he take her somewhere, just the two of them, Draco looked like she had just told him he won the lottery. Or something like that. She realised as an afterthought that he was so obscenely wealthy that something as lower-class as a lottery would not even elicit a reaction.

"Will she find it odd that her mother's friend is taking her somewhere?"

"I doubt it. Harry takes her places all the time without me. They've had special outings ever since she was a baby."

Draco knew of Harry's role in both of their lives, but it did nothing to abate the envy that flashed across his face whenever it came up.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to make this trip even better."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his petty rivalry. As if Harry could ever compare to a relationship with Cressida's father. Sure enough, Cressida loved Harry, and he loved her. Still, the connection between Cressida and Draco was evident, even from the short time they had known one another. The looks of mirrored adoration that they gave one another was hard to miss.

"I wouldn't expect anything less. I imagine simply conceding that Harry might be better than you at anything would offend your sensibilities."

He laughed, bumping his shoulder against hers. "You always knew me best, Granger."

The familiarity of the gesture caused a painful ache to bloom in her chest.

"Yes, well, I guess that's the result of spending 10 years as your partner. On that topic... Why did you leave the department? You were a talented Auror, and it seemed like you enjoyed it."

"It wasn't the same without you—"

At that moment, the sound of little footsteps sounded from the hall as Cressida returned with the book she was intent on showing Draco.

"There were other reasons, too. A conversation for another time."

He looked to their daughter, who had clambered into his lap.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"I think it's time to start thinking about how you want to tell her about who you are. If you still want to, that is."

A boyish grin lit his face. "Thanks, Granger."

They planned for Draco to take Cressida for the entire day the following weekend. If all went well, they would tell Cressida that he was her father during one of their weekly dinners.

Cressida was nearly vibrating with excitement when Saturday finally arrived, and it took a tremendous amount of energy to get her dressed and ready to go. As always, Draco was punctual, though he arrived at the front door instead of apparating in or using the Floo Network.

Hermione watched as he pulled Cressida into his arms, running his fingers along her ribs and eliciting a wild squeal.

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yes. At least, I hope so."

"You're making me nervous. What is it?" 

She prayed that he wasn't going to cancel. It was sure to devastate Cressida, and Hermione as well.

"Astoria asked if she could come along—"

"And you weren't able to say no." 

Hermione chuckled, and he smiled in response. 

"No, I wasn't. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise for indulging your wife, Draco. Cressida has certainly been monopolising your time lately, and she was going to have to meet Astoria sooner or later."

It seemed like he wanted to interject, to say  _ something _ , but it seemed he decided not to. "That's not all, though."

"Oh?"

"She wants to meet you also."

Panic rose in her chest. "Now?" 

Images of younger Mrs Malfoy flashed through her mind as Hermione took stock of ratty appearance. Thinking she would get some housework done while Cressida was away, she had slipped into some old joggers and a Gryffindor t-shirt that had seen better days. There was little desire to put effort into her appearance for Draco's sake. However, the thought of formally meeting his wife with her coiffured hair and stylish dress robes was enough to make Hermione sick.

"Today, at least? If that works for you. I told her this evening might be better when we drop Cressida off."

"That's fine." 

It wasn't, not really, but she couldn't avoid the woman forever. She was married to the father of Hermione's child. Like it or not, Astoria would be a part of Cressida's life, and by extension, Hermione's life as well.

"You don't have to do this, not now. I understand it's a lot to ask."

Summoning all her courage, she flashed Draco what she hoped was a convincing smile. "I want to. I'll see the three of you tonight."

It would be too obvious if she made herself up in preparation for meeting Astoria. Still, Hermione did take care to plait her hair and change into jeans and a jumper.

The change did nothing to ease the utter sense of inferiority and self-doubt the minute Astoria stepped through the door, every bit as stunning as Hermione remembered. Draco followed closely behind, holding a sleeping Cressida in his arms.

"Hello! Astoria Greengrass."  Smiling brightly, Astoria ignored Hermione's outstretched hand in favour of a tight hug and a brush of her lips against each of Hermione's cheeks. " I'm pleased to formally and  _ finally _ make your acquaintance." 

"Erm, hello," Hermione said. "I'm—"

"Oh, I know who you are, darling." 

A peal of tinkling laughter spilt from Astoria's lips, and Hermione wondered whether there was anything the other woman did that wasn't a perfect picture of grace and beauty.

"I've been begging Draco to introduce us since you got back, but he's wanted to keep the two of you all to himself."  Astoria turned to wink at the man in question, who merely glared back.

"I'm sorry about that... I never meant to... That is... I'm glad he and Cressida have had the chance to become so well acquainted, but I didn't mean for it to distract from his responsibilities to you." 

Hermione looked up sheepishly, but confusion bloomed when she saw the other woman studying her with a curious little grin.

"His responsibilities to me?"

"Yes? I don't mean to be uncouth, but Pansy mentioned that you two are trying to start a family."

"Draco Malfoy, you haven't told her?" Though her voice was soft to not wake the child, her tone was stern.

The effect on Draco was apparent.  "There hasn't been a good time to do so."

"So, why not now?"

"Tori, you can't be serious."

"Stop being a coward, and just tell her!"

Hermione had watched the rapid exchange with great interest, but could no longer refrain from interjecting. "Tell me what?"

At that precise moment, Harry made his appearance. He was dressed in his pyjamas, likely looking for an evening snack.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise we had company," Harry said.

"Hello!" Astoria turned towards him. "Astoria—"

"I know who you are." Harry flashed her a friendly smile. "I was invited to your wedding."

"Wonderful, I hope you enjoyed yourself. I was just leaving, I've got another engagement, but you have a lovely home.”

“Well, actually, I—”

Astoria continued as if she hadn’t even heard him. “Would you mind relieving Draco of Cressida? I'm afraid we tired the poor girl out, and these two have some things to discuss."

She sent Draco a warning look as she left as if to say he would be better off doing as he was told. Harry walked towards Draco robotically, somewhat stunned by all that was happening, and reached for Cressida. A small whimper escaped her during the transfer, but she soon settled into Harry's shoulder.

Turning to leave, he glanced at Hermione one last time before trekking up the stairs. For the first time since she had informed him about Cressida, she and Draco were truly alone.

"Let's go to my study," Hermione said. "This seems important, and I don't want any further interruptions.”

Draco followed quietly, holding the door open for her and closing it silently behind them.

"Am I going to want to yell at you?" 

Hermione lifted her wand, ready to cast a silencing charm.

"I hope not." Draco sighed. "But, cast it just in case."

With a quiet utterance of  _ Silencio _ , Hermione looked to Draco. He ran a hand through his hair, and she felt a tiny flash of resentment at the way it looked so effortlessly tousled, even now.

"I might as well just get to it. First, you have to promise to let me finish."

Hermione huffed in protest at the unsaid insult, but Draco just grinned at her mischievously.

"Don't act like you're not always interrupting," he said.

She glared at him, brows furrowed in annoyance, proving just how good of a listener she could be.

"Well? Do you promise?"

"Yes! Just get on with it!"

"Right." Draco chuckled and shoved his hands into his pants. "So, Astoria and I filed for an annulment. We started the process a few weeks back, and it was formalised three days ago."

She opened her mouth to protest before audibly snapping it shut.

"I know what you're going to ask. It's not because of you or Cressida. I mean, your arrival was a catalyst, of sorts, but please don't think either of you is to blame."

He looked to the floor, then back at her. Slowly walking towards the desk against which she was perched, he stopped when his feet bracketed hers. Their legs were almost brushing against each other, and when he exhaled heavily, his breath tickled her skin.

"I'll explain it to you all when we have more time, but in short, the marriage was arranged by the two of us out of convenience."

His fingers traced up her arm before he wrapped a hand around her back and tugged at the band that held her braid in place.

"I always liked your hair better down," he murmured.

She took the braid in her hands and began to undo it, combing out the curls before tossing them over her shoulder. "A marriage of convenience?"

"Yes. After you left, Father really ramped up the efforts to see me married. Some rubbish about almost being 30 and needing to fulfill my duty."

Shuddering slightly at the thought of Lucius, Hermione rested her hand on Draco's forearm in silent encouragement.

"Astoria overheard her parents talking about it and came to me with a proposal for a mutually beneficial arrangement. We would marry, she would act as a surrogate using Muggle methods. After the child was born, we would divorce, and she would receive a generous alimony settlement."

"So, an heir for you and financial independence for her?"

"They don't call you the Brightest Witch of our Age for nothing."  He grinned impishly before breaking into laughter when she playfully slugged his arm.  "There were never any pretenses of love, nor expectations of sexual intimacy for either of us. We'd always been friends. She was in love with someone else and I was too... I still am, I think. I just didn't want to admit it at the time."

Shifting closer to her, he grabbed her hand and laced her fingers through his. A small, genuine smile lit his face when she didn't pull away.

"She couldn't be with the person she loved," Hermione whispered.

"No, she couldn't. I thought my chance was gone, also. So, I agreed."

"I have many, _many_ questions." 

She stood and closed the remaining space between them.

"I'm sure you do," he said with a small chuckle. "I'll explain everything that is mine to share. Some things you may need to learn from Astoria, though."

"I understand." 

Placing her hands on his chest, she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. His hand hesitantly rested on her hips before shifting them to her lower back. Each of his movements was slow and unsure, as though he was waiting for the spell to break.

"I do have two questions to ask, though."

He nodded in encouragement.

"You're single now?"

"Yes." His fingers now threaded through her hair, one hand tangled in the curls at the back of her neck. 

"And… This woman you were and are in love with?"

"I'm hoping she might give me another shot."

Resting her hands on his shoulders, she leaned up to her tiptoes and kissed him. Her lips pillowed his lower lip, and her tongue darted out to graze along the seam of his mouth.

When he groaned, she dipped in to sample a taste of him and deepen the kiss. She elishing the way he felt against her. Hermione had dreamt of his lips countless times over the years, but none of her memories compared to reality.  She pressed her body more tightly against him, a soft whimper escaping her at the evidence of his arousal that pushed against her. Then, he pulled away.

Hermione didn't even have the sense to be embarrassed when she whined at the loss of contact.

"I want you so badly, Hermione," Draco said, his voice low and throaty. "This time, I'm going to do it right, though. I'm taking you on a date."

"Are you sure I can't convince you otherwise?"

She emphasised her question with a subtle shift of her hips. With a pained grunt, Draco stepped away from her, his eyes flashing with desire before a carefully crafted mask slid into place.

"I'll see you Wednesday, yes? To tell Cressida?"

After she nodded in confirmation, Draco bid her goodnight. He shot her a final, heated glance that sent a jolt of heat up her spine, and then he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco was evidently nervous to tell Cressida that he was her father, and Hermione fully understood that sentiment. They had planned on Hermione breaking the news after dinner was through. While Hermione knew they would need to provide a fuller explanation once their daughter was older, she settled on something more simple for the time being.

"Sweetheart, you know how some children have a mummy or two, others have a daddy or two, and some have a mummy and a daddy?"

Cressida nodded but didn't glance up from her playset.

"Well... Mr. Draco... He's your daddy."

That got her attention. Cressida looked at Hermione with a curious stare as she processed the information.

"Mummy," she said and pointed at Hermione. 

It wasn't a question, and Hermione merely nodded in confirmation.

"Daddy?" Cressida turned towards Draco, whose eyes were glassy.

"Yes, little one. He's your daddy," Hermione repeated. "Is that okay?"

Cressida ignored the question. 

Instead, she stood and ambled across the living room to crawl into Draco's lap. Sitting on his knees, she hugged him before pulling back, and she placed her hands on his cheeks. 

"Daddy," Cressida said. "Stay for story?"

"If it's okay with your mother."

Two sets of grey eyes looked towards her expectantly.

"Of course, but just one book."

Even as she said it, Hermione knew one book wasn't realistic. After all, she often read Cressida at least two stories. Harry always read a minimum of three.

Standing in the doorway surveying the scene, Hermione smiled softly at the pair of them as Draco started on the fourth book of the night. Cressida could barely manage to keep her eyes open before she finally succumbed to sleep halfway through the story.

After slowly disentangling himself from her tight hold, Draco shifted from the bed and crossed to where Hermione stood.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, nibbling at her lower lip until she laughed and pushed him away.

"We still need to talk," she said, her face schooled into a stern expression.

His mouth twisted into a petulant pout. "Fine, then we kiss."

Twining her hand with his, she led him back to the living room and settled on the couch, tugging at him insistently until he dropped down beside her. Hermione curled into his side with her head resting on his shoulder.

There was no use in tiptoeing around the difficult topics they still had to discuss. Rather than engaging in a confusing back and forth, Hermione elected to be direct. They had wasted enough time due to their own idiocy and lack of communication.

"You don't have another child."

"No, I don't."

"Is this something you can tell me more about?"

Draco sighed and leaned back, hugging her more tightly to him.

"Astoria is gay. I was aware of her sexuality before we wed and signed the marriage contract, with this knowledge. There was never the expectation that we would sleep together in trying to produce an heir."

"Have you been celibate since..."

"Yes, since we slept together."

"That seems a bit preposterous."

"It's perfectly logical. After you left I was heartbroken and unavailable. Then Astoria approached me shortly after. It would have been gauche to carry on with someone while we were engaged. If word got out about an 'affair,' it would have reflected poorly on the both of us. Once the agreement was formalised, I just resigned myself. Malfoys have included fidelity clauses in their contracts for generations, so there really wasn't much else to do about it."

"I haven't been with anyone either," Hermione whispered.

Draco looked startled momentarily but turned his attention back to her original question. "Before we agreed to the arrangement, she informed me that there were Muggle methods that would allow her to carry my child without us being intimate."

It was a creative solution to a challenging problem. Hermione was impressed not only by Astoria's ingenuity but also by her familiarity with Muggle medicine.

"We went to the best doctors and clinics. Astoria was subjected to various treatments for the better part of two years. In the end, none of them worked. The doctors were confounded. Physically, she was in excellent health and should have been able to get pregnant. That was when we turned to magical medicine. It turns out she's cursed."

"Oh, Draco." Hermione reached out to grab his hand and squeezed it.

"It's a blood curse. We don't know much about it, but the healer believed that it caused her infertility problems. She _might_ be able to get pregnant, but it would be difficult, and childbirth would very likely pose significant risks to her health."

"That was why you transferred to the Department of Mysteries."

"I began researching in hopes of finding a cure. Since so little is known about blood maledictions, that seemed like a good place to start."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione said.

"I couldn't leave her when we found out, even though she tried to insist on it. My parents were still content with the belief that I was at least trying for an heir, though they don't know the specifics."

"Daphne knew, and she told Pansy. Everyone else thought it was a traditional marriage, though, right?"

"Astoria told her ex-girlfriend when they split up, but the woman had her own problems to sort out."

"What changed? Why now, for the annulment?"

"After you returned and I told Astoria about Cressida, she became positively violent in her demand that we end the arrangement Something about going to get my girls."

He looked down at her and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners and a tiny dimple appearing on his left cheek.

"Will she be okay?"

"I think so. The alimony we decided on is very generous."

"Money isn't everything, Draco." Hermione scolded him with a click of her tongue. "There is more to life than that, you know."

"Trust me, I know." He drew her into his lap and rested his hands on her hips.

"So, will she be okay? Infertility can be devastating, and what about the woman she was dating—"

The rest of her questions died out as Draco caressed her lips with his, softly and slowly tasting her. If his plan was to snog her into silence, it was working. He finally pulled away, resting his forehead against hers and brushing an errant curl behind her ear.

"She'll be okay, Granger. I know your bleeding heart makes it difficult for you to _not_ rush out and defend the downtrodden, but please, trust me. To your concerns about her mental health, wellbeing, and relationship status... It's best to speak to her. She would love to be your friend."

"Alright." Her arms snaked around his neck as she shifted further into his lap and pressed her chest to his.

"That's it? No more arguments or nagging? I'm disappointed."

Hermione nipped his lip in retaliation, soothing her tongue across the bite and kissing him once more. Rolling her hips against him, she smiled wickedly against his mouth at the groan that erupted from the man beneath her.

"Still insisting we wait?" Hermione was sure he could feel the heat of her cunt through the layers of cloth that separated them.

When she tried to move again he growled, his hands gripping her waist and holding her in place.

"Yes, Granger."

"Even if I beg for you to fuck me?"

His pupils were blown wide as he stared at her dazedly before blinking a few times. Holding her tightly, he stood with her in his arms, and for a brief moment, Hermione thought she might be victorious. However, her smugness was squashed when he set her down on her feet and stepped away.

"Can Potter watch Cressida this weekend?"

"I'll have to ask, but I don't think that should be a problem."

"Good," Draco nodded his head. "If he can, I'd like to take you to dinner."

Hermione smiled. "I'd like that."

With a final kiss goodnight, Draco left.

She confirmed her availability with him the following morning, after checking in with Harry. It seemed her friend had little on his social agenda aside from trying to get back into Pansy's good graces.

Although he hadn't told Hermione at the time, Harry's relationship with Pansy before moving was teetering between casual and serious. He certainly felt more for her than a fleeting interest but had been afraid to open up. Pansy had somewhat begrudgingly accepted his apology and explanation the night she visited Grimmauld.

However, it was clear she planned to make Harry suffer a bit before resuming _any_ sort of relationship.

As such, he was more than free to watch Cressida while Hermione and Draco spent time reconnecting.

The date exceeded all her expectations. Draco had chosen an intimate restaurant in Muggle London, away from the prying eyes of the magical world. While they were both eager to become reacquainted, neither was ready to make the relationship public.

Many rumours were circulating about Cressida, especially as her appearance in the magical community closely coincided with the dissolution of the Malfoy-Greengrass union.

The flame of the gossip mills was only fueled when Rita Skeeter reported that the marriage between Draco and Astoria had been annulled on the grounds of the marriage being found invalid.

All parties involved were doing their best to ignore the judgmental stares and hushed voices making presumptions.

Thus, the revelation that he had planned their first date away from the circus that now engulfed magical London was a relief.

Hermione thought existing with Draco in a capacity that was romantic might feel awkward. After all, they'd been enemies, then friends and partners for so many years. She wasn't sure the transition to lovers would work. She couldn't have been farther from the truth.

They fell into a comfortable pattern as she told him of the progress she made in MACUSA and her new position's challenges. He told her what he could about his job, though in the end, it really wasn't much. The important thing was that he seemed to enjoy his work. It challenged him and pushed him, and Hermione could see that he was thriving in the new environment.

The night offered them the opportunity to discuss topics that weren't related to Cressida or were too mature to be talked about around the child. As nearly all their time together had been spent with their daughter, there was much to catch up on.

It was refreshing. 

More importantly, it felt _right_.

Hermione politely inquired about his parents, curious as to where they stood regarding the recent developments in Draco's life.

"Mother was the first person I told about Cressida. I actually went to the Manor that night, when you and I first met."

"Oh?" She took a drink of the wine he had chosen and tried to appear indifferent, even though her heart was pounding. 

"To say she was livid at Father's actions would be an understatement."

Hermione released a breath she hadn't even realised she was holding.

"She moved out of the Manor and has been staying at one of the Malfoy townhomes in the city. The topic of divorce has come up a few times, though, for the time being, they're just separated."

It was more than Hermione had expected. "That seems serious."

"Mother, for all her faults, is fully devoted to family. So the idea that Father would have been so underhanded and callous in his treatment of you and her unborn grandchild is absolutely appalling to her."

"I see," she said. "When will she meet Cressida?"

"Whenever you'll allow it," Draco replied. 

He was distracted as he signalled for the waiter to bring the check, and Hermione waited until his attention was on her once more.

"She's your daughter, too."

"Yes, but you're her mother."

"Would Narcissa like to come to Grimmauld?"

"We can have tea at my place. That might be the most neutral ground," Draco said with a smile.

"You don't live at the Manor?"

"Merlin, no. I've stayed in the same condo that I lived in when we were partners. Though, now that I have you and Cressida to entertain, I might start looking for a bigger space."

He stood and pulled her chair out, offering his arm as she followed suit.

When the night ended with a soft kiss on the lips, Hermione was disappointed and unafraid to show it. Draco simply chuckled at her impatience and pressed another kiss to her forehead.

Their second date ended similarly, much to her annoyance.

For their third date, he took her to the library at Malfoy Manor after ensuring his father would be out. Many people might find a library date to be boring, but Hermione had never been happier.

She could have easily spent an entire day walking among the aisles, drinking in the knowledge that the books offered. Still, when Draco pushed her up against one of the shelves and kissed her breathless, she could hardly complain.

By that point, she had grown accustomed to the idea that Draco was enjoying the act of dating _without_ sex, and it might be a while more before they were intimate.

That was why she was caught so off-guard when he spun her to face the books and began trailing kisses down her neck. His hand brushed along her thigh to pull at the skirt she was wearing and continued upward until his fingers met the seam of her knickers.

Hermione leaned into him, her head falling to rest against his shoulder, and his mouth continued its descent. He licked and nibbled and teased the junction of her neck and shoulders while he pushed the silky material aside to dip into her slick folds.

She was teetering at the edge of bliss from his fingers alone when he dragged her skirt up entirely, unfastened his pants to release his cock, muttered a contraceptive charm, and buried himself within her.

With one arm braced against the shelving and the other gripping his leg, Hermione gave in to the sensations he pulled from her. Draco held her by the waist, his other hand shoved into her knickers as his fingers rubbed tight circles around her clitoris.

It was fast and hard and _desperate_ , and soon Hermione was crying out his name and clenching around his length. As she fell over the precipice, she pulled him with her, and he stuttered to a stop with a husky groan. His face was pressed to her shoulder, and he sucked at the damp, sweaty skin in a way that was sure to leave a mark.

Hermione couldn't be bothered to care. The feeling of him inside her, _around her,_ was intoxicating. She never wanted to be without it again.

Fortunately, she didn't have to be.

Several months after they began dating, Draco asked her to move in with him. He wanted to look for a new place they could make their own, and Hermione readily agreed.

The home they purchased was rather spacious for a family of three, which Hermione had pointed out when they first toured it, but Draco was insistent that it was the one for them.

A year later, they were settled into a comfortable routine. That was when Draco started dropping rather unsubtle hints about the possibility of another child.

They had yet to discuss marriage, but somehow, the timing felt right. Both of them were interested in having more children and providing Cressida with siblings. It wasn't as if anything about their relationship was conventional, after all.

When she took the pregnancy test, it was with Draco pacing anxiously outside the master ensuite.

"You know, looking at the tests won't make time go by any faster."

"I don't understand why we can't just use magic, Granger. You are a witch, after all, and quite a formidable one at that."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. 

"This is how I did it last time, and this is how we're going to do it _this_ time. When we're able to learn the sex of the child, we'll use magic, okay?"

He fixed her with a sulky stare and continued to mutter unintelligibly as he continued to stride back and forth. The blare of the timer emitting from her wand nearly caused him to jump out of his skin, and Hermione laughed at his excitement as he ran to the toilet where the tests lay.

"Well?" 

She was standing behind him at the en suite entrance, and his body posture gave nothing away as to the results.

"Draco?"

When he turned, tears were trailing down his face. He ran to her, lifting her in his arms, and spun her around the room.

"We're having a baby, Granger."

She hummed and pressed a kiss to his cheek, the salty wetness coating her lips. "Congratulations, love. You're going to be a daddy again."

Draco froze at that before carrying her to the bed and setting her down to sit at the edge while he knelt before her.

"I can't believe how fortunate I am," he murmured. 

He tugged at the thin camisole she wore, lifting it to bare the flat skin of her stomach. "A baby is growing in here... Can you believe it?"

Although Hermione wanted to remind him that she had been pregnant before, she knew the mention of all that he missed when it came to Cressida would only serve to sully the moment. Instead, she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

"I love you, you know."

"I love you, too, Granger."

"Hmm. Maybe it's time we change that to Malfoy. What do you think?"

His eyes widened as the implication of what she was asking came to the forefront of his awareness. Hermione was grinning down at him, but her smile fell slightly when he stood and rushed towards the closet.

Had she been too forward?

She didn't mean to scare him off, but it only seemed logical to at least _start_ talking about making their little family official.

Bile began to rise in her throat at the idea that maybe Draco didn't _want_ to marry her, though she knew at some level how silly the notion was.

They owned a house.

They had a child, with one on the way.

Still, old insecurities were at times hard to overcome entirely.

"Don't come in!" he said when she tried to open the closet door.

"Draco, you're beginning to frighten me." 

She laughed shakily, holding back tears.

"Just... Go back and sit on the bed... Give me one minute."

Doing as he requested, she settled a hand on her stomach, dropped her gaze, and slowed her breathing. At a rustling from the direction of the closet, her eyes snapped up.

Draco walked toward her, an anxious smile on his face and both hands behind his back. "Thanks for waiting."

Hermione snorted indelicately. It wasn't as if he left her much choice.

"What's going on, Draco? If you don't want to get married, then just say so. At the very least, tell me what’s going on in that handsome head of yours."

"Is that what you think?" A look of horror crossed his handsome features.

"What else am I supposed to think? I made a _reference_ to being married, and the first thing you do is flee as though a Dementor is chasing you!"

"I'm starting to think miscommunications and misunderstandings will plague us for the rest of our lives,” he said with a heavy sigh. “One would think that with the shared intelligence between the two of us—”

"Draco! Stop getting distracted!" 

As Hermione moved to stand, Draco shifted back and dropped down to his knees. Her eyes roved his face as she studied his features and looked for a clue as to what was going through his mind.

"I wasn't running because of what you said."

"Wonderful," she remarked. "That answers everything."

"Don't get snarky. I walked _briskly_ to the closet to grab this." He brought his hand forward and showed her a velvet box. "I've had it for a few months, but I didn't want to scare _you_ away."

"Oh, Morgana. We're both idiots, aren't we?" 

"That's what I said, though I believe I was far more eloquent."

Hermione huffed a laugh and reached for the ring box.

"I don't think so," he said. "You're going to let me do this properly."

"Fine. Get on with it, then."

"Well, that's encouraging."

"Draco Malfoy, I swear—"

"Don't bother finishing that threat. I already know I won't like it."

A smirk that rivalled his own twisted the corners of her mouth. At least he knew she never made empty threats. Although he was the most infuriating, incorrigible man she had ever known, Hermione loved him. There had never been anyone else who challenged her the way he did. Hermione knew they could talk for hours and never run out of topics to cover. 

Beyond his intelligence, he was handsome, charming, and wickedly funny. 

But, most importantly, he was hers.

She bent down to kiss him. "Ask me, Draco."

He opened the box to reveal a brilliant diamond set on a gold band. It was perfect in its simplicity, yet she knew he must have spent a small fortune on it. It warmed her heart that he had chosen a new ring for her, rather than pulling one from his family vaults.

It served as a symbol of the legacy they would build together, one that would stand in stark difference to the history of the Malfoy name.

"Hermione Jean Granger, I'm never better than when I'm with you. You've given me Cressida, and soon you'll have our son—"

"You're so sure it's a boy, are you?"

He frowned at the interruption. "Dammit witch, let me finish."

"Sorry." Hermione snickered. "Please, go on."

"You're the mother of my children, and I only hope you'll do me the honour of being my wife. Will you marry me?"

"I would love to."

Standing and drawing her to him, he kissed her soundly.

"The baby _will_ be a boy, by the way. I can feel it," he said. 

Several minutes had passed, and at first, she didn't realise what he was talking about. When it dawned on her that he hadn’t conceded on the sex of the baby, she laughed against his mouth and kissed him again. 

Backing towards the bed, she fell down onto it and pulled him with her.

Life was good, and there was so much to celebrate.

The baby turned out to be a boy.

Although the look of smug satisfaction on Draco's face at the revelation nearly made her punch him again, like back when they were children, she refrained. She didn't imagine that physical assault on her fiancé and the father of her children could be attributed to pregnancy hormones. So in the end, she settled on other, more _pleasurable_ methods of distraction.

When Scorpius Henry Granger Malfoy was born, Draco never left her side. He was significantly more panicked throughout the process than Harry had been, but she would never point that out to him. As he held their son in his arms for the first time and turned to introduce the baby to Cressida, Hermione knew.

  
Life couldn't possibly get more perfect.


	7. EPILOGUE

The wedding and reception were charming and splendid, and everything one would expect from Pansy Parkinson.

Astoria had overheard other guests comparing it to the Granger-Malfoy nuptials the summer before, as was expected from a gathering composed mostly of stodgy, judgmental purebloods. 

In her opinion, the two were each beautiful in their own unique way.

Whereas Draco and Hermione had elected for an elegant, intimate ceremony, Pansy threw the party of the season. Astoria didn't envy her poor groom, but she supposed it served Harry right for the way he left Pansy before. Alas, the two were perfect for each other, despite their troubled past, and Astoria was glad to see they were able to sort it all out.

It was hard to believe that seven years had passed since she had approached Draco with the proposition of marriage.

The journey she underwent since that time was filled with many challenges, but she wouldn't change a single part.

Draco had been a wonderful, loyal friend to her through it all. When she initially sought him out with a plan that was sure to help both of them, she never anticipated how pivotal a role he would play in her life. He cared for her after she learned of the curse and dedicated his work to finding a cure. It was far more than she could have asked from him, but he never once made her feel guilty about it.

Much to his continued vexation, little progress had been made on that front, but Astoria wasn't bothered by it. Hermione had been a crucial part of it all, proving herself to be an even more stalwart friend than Draco. She threw herself into researching the origins of the curse, without Astoria even asking. Extensive research of the Greengrass family and comprehensive review of the literature revealed that Astoria would live a full life if there was no extreme stress on her body.

Of course, this cemented the fact that she would never be able to be pregnant, which was an unexpected blow. Before then, she never really imagined herself with children. Her offer to Draco to act as his surrogate really was made as a favour to him and a way that he could benefit from the arranged marriage. Still, learning that she couldn’t have a baby was difficult. She came to terms with it, in time and with the support of Draco and her sister.

There were always other options, like the ones she suggested to Draco. However, Astoria also knew she would be perfectly content so long as she had Ginny by her side. Looking for that fiery redhead among the crowd of wedding guests, Astoria smiled at the fortune the past three years had brought her.

Ginny loved her even before Astoria's marriage of convenience, but expectations imposed by Molly and the wizarding society at large made it impossible for them to be together.

Astoria would have readily thrown all her social connections and status away to be with the woman she loved. Yet, Ginny was unwilling to alienate her family. Although it broke Astoria's heart, she understood. The Weasleys had lost enough in the war, and she would never try to force Ginny into having to choose. 

They parted ways before Astoria married Draco, but she never stopped loving the woman with the brilliant, hazel eyes.

It came as quite a surprise when after her annulment, Ginny reached out to her. The time apart had allowed her love time to figure out what and who was important to her. Once Ginny made it clear that she was ready to truly be with her, they reconnected and worked tirelessly to re-establish the trust between them. 

Of course, despite multiple conversations between mother and daughter regarding the spectrum of sexuality, Molly initially struggled with the news of their relationship. In fact, Astoria was certain that until Pansy and Harry exchanged vows, Molly still held to a dying dream that Ginny might one day be the future Missus Potter.

Astoria wouldn't allow herself to resent Molly, though. That would only serve to drive a wedge between Ginny and herself, which Astoria absolutely refused to let happen. She would convince Molly that she was the best choice for her daughter.

After all, Astoria had never met a parent that she wasn't able to charm. She got along with Narcissa Malfoy, despite Draco's mother suspecting their plot throughout the entire marriage. In comparison, getting Molly Weasley to love her would be like a stroll through the park on a warm summer's day.

Astoria was sure it helped that she and Ginny had discussed the possibility of in vitro fertilization for Ginny, or adoption. Nothing was quicker to win over the Weasley matriarch than the promise of more grandchildren. Even though she had found peace with the idea that she might never bear children, the thought of being a mother that made her heart beat a little faster.

She and Ginny were together and stronger than ever, openly and proudly in love. Further, she was financially independent and secure. She took the money awarded to her in the annulment and funded small, witch-owned businesses and startups. So far, her investments had paid off handsomely.

As such, Astoria found herself perfectly content, but that wasn't there still wasn't room for improvement. More and more, she found herself considering their options for having a child and imagining their home filled with laughter and joy. 

The desire for children was only further cemented after Hermione and Draco had their twins, Lyra Daffodil and Leo Abraxas, earlier that year. She was named the godmother to the babies, and every time she held them in her arms, she felt more confident that it was something she wanted for herself.

Glancing at the couple in question as they spun around the dance floor, a small smile graced Astoria's face. They were still so deeply in love it was impossible to look at them and not feel a blooming sense of happiness. Harry said it was nauseating, as if he didn't stare after Pansy with hearts in his eyes. Personally, Astoria didn't mind their overt displays of affection. She loved love, and she was delighted to see two such wonderful friends experience it.

One might think that the stresses of life might have taken a toll on the bond they shared. For starters, they were parents to four children under the age of eight. Cressida never failed to delight Astoria in the ingenious and mischievous ways she found to tease and torture her parents. Scorpius was a rambunctious ball of energy and always on his sister's heels, aiding in her efforts to the best of his abilities. Astoria was sure the twins would follow in their siblings' footsteps. 

Besides their familial duties, Hermione was gearing up for her bid at Minister for Magic. At the same time, Draco was adjusting to the recent promotion as Head of the Department of Mysteries. Their lives were full, and Astoria knew that neither would have it any other way. They thrived off of the pressure, taking it in stride and using it to strengthen their love for one another.

Astoria made her way back to the table that she shared with Ginny, Draco and Hermione, Ron and Susan, and Theo and Luna. The last couple had caught them all by surprise after Draco and Hermione reintroduced the two of them. Still, Astoria thought they were rather sweet together. 

They hadn't been seen since the cake was cut. Astoria imagined they were off somewhere in search of some fantastical creature. Or, maybe the two had just slipped away for a quick shag.

Settling in next to her girlfriend, Astoria leaned in to kiss Ginny's cheek.

"Do you think that might be us, someday?" 

She gestured toward the newlyweds who surveyed the reception. Harry's arms wound tightly around Pansy as she rested her back to his chest as they swayed slowly to the sound of the band.

"I hope so," Ginny said, as she wound her hand through Astoria's.

At that moment, Draco and Hermione returned from the dance floor, flushed and breathless and smiling brightly.

"We're going to head out," Hermione said.

"Mother has the twins for the evening, but Cressida and Scorpius are far past their bedtime," Draco added.

Astoria smiled at them mischievously. "Have a wonderful night, you two."

The sentiment was unnecessary, but she couldn't resist. She was sure a fabulous night was indeed ahead of them. There were no parenting demands for two infants, and the other children would likely be asleep before they hit the bed.

"We will," Draco said, returning her smirk. 

His hand snaked down to squeeze Hermione's bum, eliciting a surprised squeak from the woman.

She playfully slapped his arm away. "Behave yourself, Mister Malfoy!"

He winked at her roguishly, pulled her against him, and planted a loud kiss firmly on her lips. "You wouldn't like me nearly as much if I did, Missus Malfoy." 

Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly at the display.

Ron groaned loudly until Susan smacked his arm.

Astoria simply laughed boisterously.

How wonderful it was to be in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and to everyone who has commented and left kudos!
> 
> If you're interested, I started posting a childhood au today, with update schedule for every Sunday. Find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197414/chapters/69095598#workskin)!
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sweetestsorrows), [Tumblr](https://sweetestsorrows.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/sweetest_sorrows/).


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